This is my story... To start with, I am now 45 years old, so that will at least give you a time frame of when I grew up. I fell when I was a year old and broke a leg, which set back my walking for almost a year, which afforded me the opportunity to pile on the weight. I don't know if I would have been so heavy otherwise. My school years were an absolute nightmare, I was always the biggest by a landslide, I was short, but just as wide. I was never popular, always picked last to be on a team, etc. Clothing was impossible, back then there were really no large size stores, and especially not ones for kids. I remember a period when my mother was having dresses made for me. One of the outstanding events I can remember was in the fifth grade they wheeled the scale into the classroom to weigh everyone, and I was dying a thousand deaths - and I weighed 165 at 10 years old, probably almost 100lbs more than all the other kids. I remember everyone laughing at me, and to this day cannot believe adults could inflict this kind of trauma on a
child. What were they thinking? I sometimes am amazed that I made it through school and college. I never went to the prom or any other dance, and in general was a big joke to all.
This is my story... I had thin and fat years as a child but I never was anything but plump, never severely overweight, however this was enough in the third grade to save me from endless teasing. Boys would trip me as I walked back to my seat at the back of the class, and I was picked on constantly without fail. I was also very tall and large, the tallest in the class including all the boys. I got picked on for being tall as much as for being overweight. One day, in third grade, I left for school, I saw my friend Loan for a while but then she had to go to her class, on my way in a group of three boys started to harass me, calling me name after name....fatty two by four, Amazon, Earthquake girl, Piggy, Fatso etc. They shoved me and pushed me but I managed to get away! I remember feeling as a kid....I cant take this anymore.
I will say the affect of this abuse on my self esteem had long ranging effects.
That day all morning for some reason the class was ragging on me all day. I was very quiet would yell at them to shut up but to no avail. The teachers never helped, they treated me as though I deserved the abuse and even with admonishments from my parents they never took action against the constant barrage I faced.
For some reason that day, I couldn't take it anymore! I went to a small Catholic school and we had cloakrooms instead of lockers. The teacher left the room because a classmate had a terrible nosebleed. The other kids started in with their insults and I LOST IT! These insults centered on taking my lunch away and making me lose weight for my own good.
I ran into the cloakroom to get away from them and I started smashing their bagged lunches taking them out of backpacks and the like, we had no cafeteria either and I started yelling if I could eat lunch neither could they! I started smashing lunches and apples and sandwiches went flying. Then some classmates ran in. I started punching and fighting. The fight moved out into the classroom. I was so angry some kids were running! Remember I was also the largest kid in the class. I punched one boy in the jaw and knocked his twin sister to the floor! I scratched and kicked and even drew blood on a few kids with fingernails! I was totally going ballistic! I literally fought around 8-9 kids at once. I remember being so angry that there was no time for fear! The thing that was so shocking about this later to teachers is I was known as a quiet teachers pet!
The teacher came running in and was literally in shock at the disarray of her classroom. I got dragged down to the principals office where I stayed for around an hour while they contacted my mother at work.
The principle who was a nun lectured me about restraining my anger and I ignored her. After all she had let my torture continue. I was suspended for at least three days in the third grade! My mother came in, her and the principle talked about transferring me to another class and my mother told her off.
I wasn't punished because my brother and sister had told my mother of the daily abuse I had taken! My parents felt bad for me more than likely. My own brother had to fight constantly to be let alone. My parents considered transferring me to another school or at least asking for a transfer to another class. I did end up at the school. I think I may have been transferred.
It scares me because looking at photos from that time, I am maybe 25lbs overweight if that, and also very tall, far from what would be termed obese. But since I was the heaviest in the class, I was the target.
Later a heavier girl would join the class and I remember feeling relieved! She took the brunt of abuse, I would defend her at times but we were both hopelessly outnumbered. 20 years later I would see her photo in Parade magazine, it was her because it was the name of our community and I recognized her face and name talking about how she had become an anorexic and almost died in her high school years. I had moved to another state by that time! I understood why having seen her abuse.
I did have some thin years as a child. 1-2 grade I was thin and 3-4 I was fat. Starting in 5th I lost a bunch of weight and then I was fat again in the 6th for a short while and then thin again in the 7th. My treatment changed drastically with the weight. Later I would be prepared for this in adulthood where I spend years being averagely plump and then getting to the supersizes.
School can be hell on a fat kid. There is no doubt of that. Even fat boys got beat up all the time in my school. I remember a game which had a very awful disgusting name....called "Smear the Queer". I remember two larger boys in my class coming in with busted up faces and black eyes. This actually got so out of control, our principle had to cancel recess for a month!
But overall the fat kids abuse is almost mandated. Fat kids at least when I was in school never got a break and the teachers never disciplined the other kids. We were told just to lose weight. I did from time to time but the years where I was fat did affect me badly. I know this made me a more introverted person then I otherwise would have been. I also distrust groups overall. I know kids who fight back usually get treated better. After I had this huge blowout, I did buy some peaceful time for myself. But its sad state of affairs that any child should have to live like that!
This is my story... In elementary school I was teased relentlessly -- I wasn't very overweight, and the subject of the teasing wasn't my weight, but I was a target because of it. But in Jr. High and High School I developed many friendships, including with guys. In high school I began to gain lots of weight, and weighed between 180-190 lbs In my senior year (I'm 5'1"). Right before Thanksgiving, I was complaining out loud in front of my English teacher and some of my friends about how fat I looked in my homecoming dance picture (it was a very unflattering dress and angle, but now I think I looked healthy & glowing) , and my teacher began to rail on about how I had to lose weight before I went to college, or I would never have a life. I would never have a boyfriend, I wouldn't have any social life, I would never find happiness. It was at least a half an hour lecture, and in front of my friends, who were thin. After this lecture, I ran off in tears, and my friends were no help, they told me she was just saying those things for my own good.
In the end, I met my first "real" boyfriend about a month after I started college, and that relationship lasted for 2 and a half years. I had many more boyfriends and sexual affairs than my skinnier friends from high school, and I met my husband when I was 22 -- and I've been married for 8 and a half years, I have a great job, we just bought a house last year. All in all, I would say that my English teacher was wrong.
This is my story... I was a fat kid and I am a fat adult. (27.) For a brief but oh-so-amazing period in junior high, after I went to camp and played tennis and walked everywhere and rode horses and swam twelve hours a day, I was what everyone seemed to consider, slender. Then high school happened. In grade school and later on as a sophomore, I never joined clubs. I walked the halls with my head down, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes because I took up more space than the Levi's girls, the ones with the sleek size 2's that would fit only one of my legs and the Izod shirts that hung straight and clean over bellies that didn't pooch, not even a little bit. I didn't play sports because fat girls didn't play sports. I was in band because there were fat kids coming out of the woodwork in band. The true love of my life (sorry, husband of three years, also fat and very lovable) was, and is, books. The only gripe I have with books: Where are the fat spies? Where are the fat sexy princesses? The fat cops, portrayed in a good light? The fat righters of wrongs, exposers of evil, vindicators? The fat *anyone* not drawn as a lazy, corrupted, sneering s.o.b. with only one thing on his/her mind - cheeseburgers? Every heroine I meet in a book - sooner or later, she looks in a mirror, or gets described by another character, and she's...not fat. She's got blond hair, or raven-black hair, or blue or brown or flashing purple eyes, and she's got a taut toned finely honed lanky tall slender boned graceful Olympic take-me-now-or-I'll-pull-the-pin-on-this-grenade type of body.
I am beginning a book - not reading this time. Writing. My book shall be interesting, stylish, twisty, dangerous, insightful, suspenseful, full of nooks and crannies. Just like me. And my book shall have a fat heroine. Just like me.
This is my story... School has been the best part of my life and the worst. I am 30 and still going five days a week, but on the other side of the desk. I learned my worth at home. I was raised to be strong, smart and independent. I was raised to be thin. I am not. School took everything good about me and squashed it in a tiny desk. Imagine being tall and fat and riding three to a seat in a school bus. I can hardly get my legs in when I am alone. Desks with attached chairs have always been a nightmare. Even as a middle schooler I never fit in the seat quite right. Tiny lockers and little knit gym suits did not make me happy. The year I decided to try out for basketball I warmed the bench. Pull-ups and the parallel bars made me want to throw up. Needless to say I became a shadow of a girl, quiet and shy. Walking with my head down. I worked to pass through life without imposing myself on anyone. I was pushed, shoved, elbowed and yelled obscenities at. I still am. Everyday I walk through a cafeteria filled with middle school kids. Who laugh and snicker behind their hands about my being fat. I wish that someone has taken my had during puberty and told me to put my head up and smile. Reminded me that I was smart and beautiful. No one did. So everyday I go to middle school trying to get it right, trying to make sure that no child grows-up with the hate that grown-ups show to children and children take to school. Being fat is not wrong; it is part of who I am. If I could I would still trade that away to be thin, but I can’t so I am learning to live with it. Everyday, every new town, every new job as I teach people to love me the woman and the girl that lives inside and is fat too.
This is my story... My first memory about this was in the early side of grade school when I was pulled out of class a the beginning of every year to go down to the nurses office to get weighed. Of course, only the fat kids were called down to the office at that time. I suspect that at the beginning of every year, the teachers were asked who in their classes were *too* fat or *too* thin. This went on for a couple of years and I was always embarrassed to get weighed, especially in front of the other fat kids who were also in the nurses room. I can recall the coldness of the room and the pepto colored couches on either side of the room. Towards one side of the room was the entrance to the actual office of the nurse. Some years, the weighing was done in the nurse's office, but with the door open, and a couple of times the scale was in the room with the two couches while the other children watched. The looks on all of the kids' faces were horrible. I think we all knew why we were there from the moment we entered the room. Of course back in the classroom, the kids in the room also knew that the fat kids were being taken out to the *pasture*. The didn't know what was going on, of course, but they knew that we were different and completely unacceptable by societal standards. What a way to alienate the fat kids, eh?
Long about 4th grade, I had finally understood that the power of refusing to do something that I wasn't comfortable doing. My mom had always told me that, good thing to know, eh? Anyway, that year I took an empowering stand and refused to be weighed by the nurse. She was dumbfounded. Aghast too. A combination of the two, most likely. Poor Ms. Perazino had lost her power over me. What was really cool was that when I refused, other kids refused too. YAY! It was a great moment. Ya had to be there. ;-)
I believe that in years following that I was still called down, but I don't believe they ever requested me to step on the scale again.
Come junior high, not only was I called down to the nurses office at one point, but they contacted my mum and called a public health nurse to come to visit my home during the summer months. The public health nurse came to see me and my mom to talk about food portions, etc. I remember thinking that the little rubber half cup of baked beans seemed like a little amount...I guess I was a baked bean nut back then. She also during her visit asked me to step on the scale. I refused. I think she wanted my mom to force me on the scale, but instead she supported me in the decision. Way to go mom! (On a side note, my mom was fairly thin all of her life...she hovered between size 10 and 14 most of the time. When she was ill I believe she got up to a size 20...nowhere near to my size.) Anyway, that refusal was another victory for me and my wee self esteem.
In high school I was contacted one time about my weight by the nurse. A huge issue was not made of my weight...that I knew of...
Long about 19 years old when I was taking care of my ailing mother (she died of emphysema related complications when I was 20...), my mom and I talked about a lot of things that she normally protected me against. She spoke one time about the calls she would get from the high school nurse and counselor about my weight. I had no idea they even contacted her at that time. Anyway, the counselor and/or nurse made comments to her that I would "never amount to anything" and "never have a *normal* social life" or life at all unless I lost weight. What was really curious about it in retrospect was that I had a very active social life, I was involved in a ton of after school activities, I was the editor of the high school yearbook, I was the treasurer then president of the Thespians, I helped start the video yearbook, I had a decent grade point average, etc, etc, etc. This was in a school of 2,100 kids, so no small feat to be accomplished with so many others waiting to fill in the gaps. What were they basing this diatribe upon? Their own failings in life that they blindly based upon one's weight? Anyway, I'm sure as a mother she hated to hear those things. I felt bad for her when she told me....to basically be told that she had failed as a mother 'cuz I would be such an unproductive citizen when I left the school. What a horrible thing to hear on the other end of the phone, eh? I felt so bitterly angry at the Stillwater School district for doing that and believing their own diatribes so much that they would call parents and harass them. How simply wrong they were.
This is my story... I wake up every morning hoping something would be different. I go to the bathroom and look at myself with pity. As I get ready I think about the awful comments from the day before. Just the typical name "fatty" is horrible makes me want to die.
I walk to school and try to ignore the staring and whispering that goes on right in front of my eyes. I arrive at school to no friends and no one to talk to. I watch the other girls giggle to their boyfriend wondering what that would be like.
As the day goes on, lunch comes. I wait in line trying to decide from the big selection of food. More people stare at me as I get more food then an average kid but I'm use to it. I sit isolated from the others and eat my food waiting for lunch to be over. It's a half an hour lunch which seems like an hour and a half. I finish eating after about 10 minutes thinking, "I shouldn't have eaten that, I'm just going to get more fat!"
the day finishes and I think to myself, "aww, I completed another day. Tomorrow will be different!" But really think its going to be the same like always.
This is my story... I started to get heavy at around the age of nine. I remember that when I moved to a new town things really started to get bad as far as teasing was concerned. It was 1990 -- and I remember getting on the school bus, all excited because it was the last day of school before Xmas. The boys in the back of the bus were singing the New Kid's on the Block song, "Hangin' tough." The last line of the song is "you know it aint over till the fat lady sings!" After singing this, the boys yelled to me...hey Maura -- you're cue! The bus roared with laughter and I felt hot tears rolling down my cheeks. The harassment continued throughout middle school where I would spend each lunch period in the bathroom stall bawling my eyes out because the kids in my grade would moo at me when I walked into a classroom. Eventually I stopped raising my hand and kept my mouth shut in school...I would come home each day and lie on my bed and cry. When I hit high school the teasing got worse and I decided I wasn't going to take it anymore. I went on a crash diet and lost 70 lbs. Because I lost the weight so quickly I now have horrible circulation in my hands and feet. I have managed to keep the weight off but I am obsessed with how I look. Everywhere I go I feel like I am the fattest person in the room. I feel like no man will ever love me because of how disgusting my body is (I weigh 135 and am 5'6). I run every day and follow a strict diet. As of now I am a size 9, but I still feel like I look about a size 16! I weigh myself about 4 times a day and if I gain even a TENTH of a pound my week is ruined. My obsession about my weight is totally unhealthy. I became bulimic last year (my sophomore year in college) and have been making myself throw up on and off since then. My digestive system is a wreck from my abuse of laxatives. I also started chain smoking cigarettes to lose more weight. I hope that one day I can come to terms with my weight. I still feel the pain of being tormented as a child and I know that my whole life I will still feel like a "fat slob" because that's what I was labeled as a kid. Throughout high school I tried to commit suicide about 4 times. I am happier now, but I know that my obsession with how I look and my unhealthy attitude about my weight are not going to leave any time soon. I'm now in therapy and working to kick the bulimia. I wanted to share my story because even though I suffered a great deal as a "fat kid" I am trying to turn my life around and learn to love myself for who I am.
This is my story... For some strange reason gym teachers are unmerciful to overweight kids. I remember my fourth grade P.E teacher saying to in disgust...''Cathy, you're just so slow" like it was a vice I had. One time while my classmates and I were all in line, cutting up, laughing and talking, he singled me out and
said..''shut your big fat mouth'' All the boys laughed, hooped and hollered,
and the girls just looked at me with pity.....I wanted to die and fade away
...By the time ninth grade came....I had starved myself by eating one
Popsicle a day and riding my bike 2 miles. I have no idea why I did not end
up in the hospital. Anyway, with my new slender body in tow, I entered high
school, not prepared for all the attention the upper classmen gave me. I
relish in the next four years of dates, parties, and cool clothes. I married
my high school sweet heart, gained most of the weight back, after our first
child was born. Today I am close to 300 pounds and miserable, but there is
This is my story... I never really thought about my weight until one of my classmates in high school pointed out that I did not have a flat stomach. I never even knew that was something to concerned about. The funny thing was, looking back I wasn't fat. I was strong and athletic, running track and playing tennis. However I was larger than my classmates at that age and that was the problem. I did have a small belly and even my friends would point that out and poke me like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.
The worst day was one of our track meets; one of the girls had forgotten her shorts. Since I did not have to run until later I loaned her mine. Well she was very thin and as she ran around the track the shorts began falling down and she had to hold on with one hand. The coaches thought it was hysterical- I'm sure it was but not to me.
As a result all throughout high school I wouldn't go shopping because I knew that I was too fat to wear nice clothes. I wouldn't attend any regular dances or the prom or other school events because I knew I wouldn't look good in a dress, and because I wouldn't go shopping, didn't have any decent clothes. I wore jeans and sweatpants.
At home my mother wore a size 6 and constantly fretted about her weight. Her siblings were all larger than her and she was always trying to be thinner and then claiming that they held it against her. She would bake brownies, cookies, and cake- and then sample a tiny corner- and then offer me the entire painful. She continued that on through my college years, playing on my now-ingrained paranoia of fat and appearance and my simultaneous longing for the comfortable and familiar.
I went from a healthy size 11 in high school- not fat at all- to years and years of bulimia and compulsive eating. I still won't go shopping and now the dread of going to school has been replaced by the dread of going to work. I see all the thin women in their stylish clothes and I can't speak. I just go to my computer and stay there all day. I dread being anywhere in public, and fantasize about 'running away'-just hopping on a greyhound and leaving. The sad part is, I know that I would still feel the same wherever I ended up.
This is my story... I remember on the evening of the annual Christmas concert in third grade, I had gotten ready and was eager to sing carols with my class in front of the entire school. My mom had hand-sewn me a long red dress with sequins on it, she had put my hair up, and I wore a gold necklace. When I had looked in the mirror at home, I really thought I looked pretty that night. But when I walked into my classroom just before the concert, the entire class of kids howled with laughter at me! What was so funny about the way I looked, I wondered. Maybe part of the reason was that I rarely ever wore dresses to school, I usually dressed like a tomboy. But I know the main reason was that at age 9 I weighed about 115 pounds. I don't know how I managed it, but I went ahead and sang with my class. I was used to being laughed at, so it was nothing new. Anyway, today I am a 31-year-old mother of two beautiful little girls, who so far do NOT have weight problems. I am normal-weight today, about 140 pounds- less than I weighed in the fifth grade. If either of my girls do develop a weight problem, I will pull them out of school and home-school them. I want them to grow up feeling good about themselves and valued as special people, because I wasn't. If anything good came out of being overweight as a kid, it is that I accept all people and try not to judge them based on appearance.
This is my story... It started around third grade, after I got my cast off. There is so much to tell about my experience in grade school, but I will try to keep it short, just to give you an idea of the torment I went through.
~Running the track for gym, some kids would run behind and beside me calling, "Come on Pork chop!"
~Our classes had to walk in a line down the hall, and a girl walking beside me told me to watch out for the hippo behind me (referring to my butt).
~When playing jump rope, they would make me twirl the rope because if I jumped I would go through the floor.
~When playing kick ball, the ball went into the woods, and they made me go get it. The ball hit a sharp stick and was deflated, so they blamed me and said I must have sat on it.
~My best friend, (who was also my cousin) stuck up for me sometimes, but she too chimed in sometimes, because I'm sure she didn't like going against everyone else all the time, and I oddly understood that.
~ On a field trip, we stopped at McDonald's for lunch. Two girls asked me to sit by them, so I was excited, and eagerly did. One of them asked if I wanted her hamburger, and I told her "no thanks." She started breaking off small pieces of it and threw it across the table at me. I perceived this as sort of a game, so I did the same to her. She immediately blew up, grabbed her remaining hamburger and smeared it into my face. (I think it was because she wanted to show the other classmates what would happen when "the fat girl" messed with her) I ran to the bathroom to clean it off, and when I got back I took a sip of my pop, which they had poured salt and pepper in. They sat around laughing at my disgusted face, and I was so embarrassed.
~There was a bridge on our playground that you could walk on, or under, and while I was walking under, some kids would spit on my head.
~When I was swinging on the swings, some girls came up behind me and grabbed my legs as I was going up, so I nearly fell over.
~The end of fourth grade there was a new girl in school. Towards the end of the year we started calling each other, and by the time summer came, we were inseparable. When the phone rang, it was always her, and I was ALWAYS on the phone with her. She called me once, at the end of the summer, 6 days before school started. She had been talking to some of the other girls at our school, and all she told me was "don't ever call me again, and don't tell anyone I talked to you this summer. It never happened." I think that's what hurt the most out of everything.
~ I remember sitting in the bathroom, on the counter, holding a bottle of aspirin, debating. I wanted to just down them, and end everything. I did this numerous times, and if I wasn't so afraid, I know I would have done it.
~Numerous times, while being harassed, I would tell the teachers, and they would either tell me, "if it happens again, let me know." or they would talk to the kid and say, "Now that wasn't very nice, don't let it happen again." which of course didn't help. No serious action was ever taken.
~My parents were usually pretty supportive, and they would tell if the teachers wouldn't do anything, then just punch the kid in the nose, teach them a lesson. Well, I was always much too afraid to do this until one day I just didn't think about it. This girl was sitting behind me in music class and was pulling my hair. I turned around and told her to stop. She continued. I told her again, and again she continued. Finally I turned around and back handed her right across the face. We were both sent to the principal's office. My parents came to school the next day and told the principal just what was going on, and he suspended the girl and I was given no punishment.
I eventually had to go to the school board and request a transfer. I had to write them a letter, because I was staying in north Dakota at the time. My parents represented me at the meeting and gave them the letter. I was told that many of the members were in tears, and all were touched. It's just sad that they wouldn't do anything before, they hear stories like this, and they cry, but they still don't do anything. It was too late for me, but not for the others still going through that. I was granted the transfer, and open enrolled at the public school in a neighboring town. The bus was not allowed to go outside the district, so I had to walk a half a mile to the nearest bus stop before and after school. The first year it was really hard to adjust. I was paranoid of everyone, and was always assuming every laugh was about me, which of course was not true. I am now a junior in the high school, and am far from an outcast. I have many friends, and am included in all the parties and conversations. Although there are occasionally some assholes, most people in my school look down on them for it. When I look back to how things used to be, I feel so pathetic, like how could I just let them do that to me? It has not made me stronger, like most people might think, but instead, weaker, because every little weight comment brings me back to the pain I used to feel, and it resurfaces. Losing weight seems so easy, and because of that I get so mad at myself sometimes for not just doing it, but the more mad I get, the less it helps, so I have decided to just be me, and if I lose weight, great, if not, oh well.
This is my story... When I was a kid, I had it rough. I was tall, but overweight. I had lots of friend, but people were mean to me. Kids would say I was fat, and then ask me how much I weighed. I didn't answer, all I could do was get out of everyone and just cry. I remember a couple stories that I can relate to. Most things happened in 6th grade. I just moved and made many new friends. Starting a middle school is hard. The eight graders would pick on me and say mean things. Once, an eight grader was walking by my locker and said, "how's your diet going Fat girl!" and then in gym, we were running and doing tumbling. A 7th grader saw me running around and telling people I had packs of blubber. I soon found out when a 6th grader not from my classes says, "Hey tubby! 7th graders are saying your packs of blubber shake when you run! They saw you in gym with your stomach shaking. You are the sickest fattest kid I've ever seen." This all happened the same day. I never felt so humiliated and sad in my life.
When I finally got into 7th grade, I gained about 20lbs. The kids started calling me blub blubly tubbers. That's kind of stupid but really true. Everyone started asking how I weighed. I told them how much, and they spread it around the 7th grade.
Finally my dance recital came. My costume was a short top and a biker shorts bottom. We did a performance for my school and another school. My "so called" friends said my stomach shook the whole time, and that I had sags sticking out. Soon I dumped my friends.
That is my story of my middle school years. I had a hard time in school, but the best part is, I liked who I was, and I didn't care what anyone thought of me.
This is my story... I hope this will be cathartic, as I've shoved these memories back pretty far. I was pretty chubby in elementary school, but I generally had a lot of friends. There were, of course, jerks that teased me. One day after school, I got beat up by two of them. That was a horrible day. I don't even remember why it happened. But P.E. was the worst. I could never climb the rope; I just tried for a couple seconds and then quit. The teacher didn't push me. When we ran the mile, I knew I'd be last. That's a humiliating feeling, knowing that everyone's been sitting there at the finish line for several minutes, waiting for you--and then when they try to be supportive, cheering you on, you only abhor their pity. Things weren't that great at home either. When the neighbor kids would insult me, right to my face with my dad standing right there, my dad wouldn't do or say anything. He never stood up for me, and I hated him for that. I guess I still do. I still don't trust him at all.
But life became hell in junior high. My friends abandoned me; I was alone. I couldn't fit into all the cool clothes, the Guess jeans. My weight ballooned. Once again, I dreaded gym class. Even now, I sometimes dream about that panic that would haunt me all day. When we ran around the block, my tight shorts would constantly ride up because my legs were so fat, and I'd be pulling them down as people laughed at me -- girls I thought were somewhat friendly to me. I remember one day, I was walking down the hall to class, and this girl (blond hair, thick glasses, I forget her name) said, Hurry up, fatso! I felt like a knife had been shoved in my chest, it hurt that bad. I somehow survived the day, but when I got into the car after school, I just sobbed. I had few if no friends, and didn't believe the gifted child teachers when they told me I was smart and could write. All I did was listen to heavy metal and fantasize about killing myself.
So the next year, I left the public school system and went to a private school. Which, I can honestly say, was the best move of my life. My life's never been the same. Found amazing friends, went to a great college, now I'm a journalism who *knows* I'm a good writer. Still struggle with weight, and always will--but I'm ok.
This is my story... I have been fat as long as can remember. My weight wasn't much as an issue at school until 6th grade, but junior high was the worst. I had only a few friends, but only for a short time. I felt very alone. The hatred of others for me because of my size, looks, and disability, was so strong that at times it seemed that I could feel and smell it, taste it's bitterness. Constant harassment, including sexual harassment, threats, and physical abuse filled many days before, during and after school. When I told my parents about what was going on at school they either laughed and told me that I deserved it for being the way I was, or just said to ignore it. Even though I felt bad about myself, wishing to be thin, I mainly got more and more angry. In 9th grade I started to fight back some, but wasn't very successful because there were to many of them and they were able to take advantage of my disability. The school wasn't willing to do anything to help until I told a counselor that I felt like killing some of the other kids. (I thought that I might lose control and go to far in defending myself one day, but I didn't really want to hurt anyone. But mostly I wanted to get them to realize that they couldn't ignore it anymore.) Although I assured her that I was not planning to do anything, and did not have access to weapons, the possibility of thin and nondisabled kids getting hurt really got the schools attention. They did tell the other kids not to bother me anymore, not because they though I deserved to be treated better, but for their own good. The counselor even asked what I would do without the abuse, as if I really needed and wanted it. But I was happy to be without it anyway.
This is my story... I have always felt different. The feelings were bad at first especially during high school. I was a large person (and still am) but I had people call me name like hippo, fatso, lard, etc. but I took it. I had all my life. I did hate going to school, though. There was one instance I had a girl to ask me if I had sex yet. I told her no and she responded saying "What, no one can get between those fat legs of yours,"
I didn't respond to the taunt but walked away feeling bad.
But the good news is that they people who did taunt me asked me to forgive them, and of course I did. I even had one guy, who picked on me a great deal, call me up one night and ask me to forgive him. I told him that of course I forgave him.
I don't like holding grudges against people, it makes me feel rotten. I enjoy life to the fullest, doing things that I like to do. I am in college now, going for my second degree. I enjoy school now and I want to learn.
This is my story... For as long as I can remember I have been unhappy and have hated my body. Well, I guess when I was ten years old, I used to cry myself to sleep every night. Every morning I would wake up and look at my thighs and hope for them to be smaller, thinner, more beautiful. When I was eleven I started to cut back what I ate. First I skipped breakfast and then I began to forgo lunch. Finally, I was becoming thin! I started to make excuses to my family for not eating dinner. I lost a lot of weight until I became a mere skeleton of what I once was. The following year in school, things started to change for me I became very popular and had a boyfriend and was invited to all the cool parties. I started eating again with my friends and felt "normal". The weight slowly crept back on until I was bigger that I had been a year ago. High school was a constant fight with anorexia and bulimia and suicidal thoughts/attempts. From the outside, I looked like a happy, healthy, smart girl. Inside I was falling apart. In my final year of high school things started to change for the better. I began to like who I was and take pride in my many accomplishments. My weight remained at a comfortable, healthy level. I went away to University on a full scholarship as a happy and healthy woman with a wonderful boyfriend. It wasn't until my second year when I broke up with my boyfriend that I started gaining weight and eating compulsively again. I was in a very high stress program and constantly turned to food for comfort. To compensate for all the food I was eating, I was making myself throw up 5-10 times per day, every day. I ripped up my entire GI track and created scars on my hands and mouth. I was actually still gaining weight though, because of the large quantities of food I was consuming. I met a wonderful man at the peak of my weight gain, which provided me with enough incentive to lose weight. Things got worse: I would eat scarely all day and if I did eat I would make myself throw it up. I kept losing the weight until I weighted under 90lb at 5'6. I could barely go to work anymore I was so weak. I finally got counseling, in order to gain weight, and more importantly to learn to love myself no matter what I weigh. I now work very hard at loving every aspect of myself, including my body... even when I don't fit into the bikinis that all my friends are wearing. I am me, and I make a contribution to the variety of talents and personalities the world has to offer. My life does not require me to be thin... just healthy. I wish that I had of sought help earlier, when I was bigger, to save my body a lot of hardship. Compulsive Eating is a disorder, whether you are 100lb or 300lb. There are people that can help the constant obsession with food. If you think about food/weight all the time love yourself just enough to seek help to learn to really love yourself.
This is my story... I always had a "weight problem" (I was Fat) from the time I was around 2 1/2 years old. My sister, was seven years older was very tall and thin, and thought everyone should be like her, so from a very young age (4 or so) I was very aware that I was socially unacceptable and a source of embarrassment for my family because I was FAT. When I went to kindergarten at 5, this was so ingrained, that I sucked in my stomach when they took my school picture. I didn't understand that the picture was just of my chest and head. Actually it turned out to be a pretty cute picture.
The most outstandingly negative year in my life was the fourth grade with Mrs. Osborne. She was fairly elderly at that time and wore orthopedic shoes. I'm sure she was a kind, good person in her way, but she was first class busy body. We were studying about means and medians and averages in math and there was a problem in the book for getting the average of your classes height. Well you guessed it, she decided (probably for the first time in her life!) that "going by the book" was not good enough. We were going to get the average of our classes weight! Luckily she did not drag a scale in, and being in a small private school we did not have a real nurse's office, so we were allowed to weigh at home and record our weights in class. I will say, she allowed me to be the one who stood up in front and called the roll so I didn't have to shout out my weight to everyone, but of course there was a lot of snickering, jokes etc. And of course I lied by about 20 pounds...I can't believe that she thought this little play would fool anyone. She just had to know how much I weighed...did she so underestimate me as to think I would actually tell the truth?
There were many other episodes...including her periodically checking my sack lunch to make sure I didn't have any fried chicken with gravy and chocolate cream pie in there. This was, of course, done in front of the whole class.
My life at school was full of these episodes. Can you imagine the temptation, when around 5 or 10 years ago, I received a letter from the alumni association saying that the wonderful Mrs. Osborne was finally retiring after years and years and we were going to present her with a book of memories from her former students. They asked that everybody send in a small blurb of something they remembered about her. It was so tempting, even though I knew they would never print it. But by that time I had started to realize that unless you let go of the anger, it continues to hurt you. Sometimes I wonder what I would be like if I hadn't been FAT. Certainly I would have been very different. By the way, my sister and I are finally friends at the ages of 43 and 50. She has expressed to me in many ways and times her regret for her part in my misery. Also, I wanted to say that I never told my parents about these experiences until much later. Now I know they would have been in the headmasters office in a minute, but I never gave them the chance to stand up for me. I guess I thought I deserved to be treated in that way because I was FAT. Kind of Like being born black in the deep south...
This is my story... I grew up in Rhode Island and the local zoo had an elephant named "Alice". Needless to say I was called "Alice the Elephant" or Alice the Palace, big fat Alice. This was hurtful and at first I would go home and cry and later I struck back at those who made fun of me by fighting. I am now 46 years old and relatively thin 5'8" 144 lbs. but to this day if anyone looks at me I think they are laughing at me because I'm fat. The scars never go away!
This is my story... I guess mine is a "good" fat kid story...at 5'5" and about 200 lbs, I guess I was big. But it never really bothered me...no one ever made fun of me, and if they did, it was behind my back, and if I caught wind of it, I just thought, "Oh well, they're just jealous." And I had reason to say that...
In High School, I, one of the "fat kids" was captain of two cheerleading squads, on our schools competing color guard (which, mind you, wore cute, tight, WHITE uniforms) and in three separate, competing, by audition only choir groups (yes, the fat lady does sing!!). All of the groups I was in had critical audition processes to go through, and not only did I land a spot on all of them, I was captain for the cheerleading squad and for the large choir group. PLUS, I was dating the hottest guy on the hockey team...it was wonderful!
So just remember that even if you are "fat," it's all how you carry yourself. I never, ever let my weight get a hold of me. I carried myself with my head high, and wearing the "cool" clothes. I had a HUGE network of friends, and I was my own person. It made me even more confident than ever, and now I'm on my way to success in college...I'm in a sorority and I've joined the University's color guard. HOLD YOUR HEADS UP PROUD!
This is my story... Imagine this. You are at the front blackboard. You are fourteen and FAT! Why did that nun put me here anyway? All the boys are snickering as only fourteen year old boys can. I know it. I hate it. I wipe down the blackboard when I am through, but it is not good enough for Sister X. She scornfully tells me that laziness is probably why I am so fat. Today I am seventy-five years old, but that day is still with me.
This is my story... I am over 50 years old and this is the first time I have had the courage to put these feelings in actual words. Something happened between my first and second grade years in school. I became "fat". I lived in a very rural area and went to an extremely small school, and the teasing was unbearable. One of the memories that stands out the most happened in the fourth grade. Our teacher was a very critical, unlikable person. She was married, but had no children and didn't even like children I don't think. At the beginning of the year, all students had to be weighed. You can imagine the "sinking" feeling I had the morning I walked into the classroom and saw those scales. The teacher decided that it would be fun to see which row of students weighed the most. Of course, you can imagine the comments made by the other students--"we know which row will win, how could it lose when ??? is sitting on that row", and other hurting comments. I still can't cope with some of the feelings I had back in those days; I just shove them to the back of my mind. As with most "fat" children, I struggled with diets all of my life. My mother was a person of different personalities; one day the supportive loving parent, the next day-one who constantly make comments about how cute the other girls in school were. She would also make snide remarks when I ate a candy bar or some other sweet. The first two years of high school were horrible, but I managed to lose a considerable amount of weight between my sophomore and junior years--thus making my last two years of high school bearable. I never dated any boys from my high school; I think I remembered all of the hateful taunts they had made through the years. I did have dates and was an Honor Student with a very high GPA. I went to the local community college where I thought it was great to live in a dorm room and be out of the every present criticism of my mother. I met my husband and married after one year of college; I could not believe that a football star and very popular guy would want to date me. Neither could several of the girls in college. He was a few years older and a college graduate. He has always been a great guy; but I have always felt like I had to work to deserve him. That is the worse feeling I have today. I always feel as if I have to "earn" everyone's approval by doing "things" for them. I am a successful educator with a Master's Degree and certifications in several areas, but I am still that insecure "fat child" most of the time. It doesn't help that my mother-in-law, my husband's two sisters, and my brother's wife are all model thin and when we are together, all they talk about is the fact that they need to lose weight or about how much they actually weigh. I'm sure this is directed toward me. I wish I could develop that self-esteem I read in some of the stories, but I guess I never will. Thanks for letting me express feeling that are over forty years old.
This is my story... I can't remember if I was a sophomore or a junior in high school, but one day, I was walking through the campus of the college in my town. I don't know why I was there. But, I was walking back towards the bus stop and a group of guys were in the back of a pick-up truck and as they drove past me, they squirted me with a water gun. They were laughing and saying something about getting the fat chick all wet. I remembered thinking that these guys were in *college* and they were acting like that?? Luckily, I never suffered the abuse like others I've read about but the guys in my high school did make it painfully obvious that I wasn't desirable because I was fat. But I figured it would end as the guys got older. However, there I was, on a college campus, being squirted with water by college guys.
This is my story... As a parent I am submitting this article after an experience my oldest child had in middle school. After coming home from 7th grade one day she told me, "Mom you may be getting a phone call from the school today." Naturally my blood pressure shot up because never had I received a disciplinary phone call about her. She told me the following, of which I am and still so very proud of her today : PE was coed at that large middle school and the students were running their mile. Of course, the heaviest boy was coming in last while the others had well finished the course minutes ahead of him. He was puffing and doing his best to come on in while the others waited on him. Then some students began to get impatient and someone blurted out to the coach, "Well coach, just how much does ------- Weigh?" At that the coach yelled out the student's weight, something like "255!" Of course some kids laughed, etc. but this infuriated my 12 year old daughter and SHE blurted right out to the coach, who needed to lose a few pounds of his own, " Why don't you just tell us YOUR weight coach!" to which this shut him up. She was expecting repercussions from this and I told her she did the right thing and I would be ready and waiting for that phone call, which by the way Never came!!!!! She said she would always make an extra effort to acknowledge him at school so that he would know someone truly cared about him as a human being. I re-tell this story when the subject of "standing up for yourself, or someone else" comes up, or "one of my proudest moments as a mom" story and it gets such wonderful comments you would not believe.
She is now a beautiful 22 year old woman about to graduate from Texas A&M university and still carries that compassion and caring in her heart for others today as she did that tall, gangly school girl she was in middle school in 1991. I have almost thought about submitting this article to the authors of "Chicken soup for the soul". You have my permission to do so if you feel.
This is my story... I remember 1985 and sitting in my school hallway at lunch time just as if it were yesterday. I was a senior and weighed 198 lbs. I was reading a book at lunchtime sitting in the floor in the upstairs hallway, by myself in front of my locker. I wouldn't eat lunch in the lunchroom with the students, because I didn't want them to see me eating and make comments to me. So, I just took some "junk" from home and ate it upstairs alone. Well, here came 2 guys that were good at making fun of me. One hollered down the hallway at the other, "Hey, what time is it?" The other said, "Well, how am I supposed to know, do I look like Big Ben? Here's Kelly, ask her." Why??? I wasn't bothering anybody, I was by myself. I'm 33 now, heavier than ever and still even as an adult I can see how I'm treated by some of my co-workers.
This is my story... ok, the heaviest I have been is 275. the thinnest I have been is 147. I am like 183 now. I gained weight again when I went to college...I'm trying to take it off again...In 8th grade I was in pre-Algebra. I sat by this kid named Nieto Ray. He was so terrible to me. I understood I was heavy and needed to gain control, but I couldn't understand why people where so cruel to me. It's not like I was evil in anyway or had killed the Pope. I remember during class one day Nieto Ray told me I was so fat, and that if I died nobody would care. That day I went home and attempted to kill myself. I was put into the hospital for 2 weeks. Yet again, in 9th grade, I got Nieto Ray in my math class again. This time he sat next to me again. He would still say the most cruel things. One day I had enough, and I went to the principle. The principle called in Nieto Ray and told him to stop. Did he? Nooooo. Instead he got his friends to join in when it came to making my life a living hell. I tried to kill myself again. This time I was put into the hospital for a month. I remember walking into class and having people say "here come the heifer." I remember crying in the bathroom, or faking sick so I wouldn't have to go to school. I remember praying to go to jut make me go away.
Today I suffer from bulimia and hate to go out. I have succeeded in one thing, getting an education. If anything, my being fat has made me stronger...I wish people weren't so mean.
This is my story... As a little girl I went to a church school and the only difference I noticed between my size and the size of the others in my class was that a) I was a lot taller than most of them and b) you couldn't see my ribs when I changed for gym.
When I was 6 I had to visit a doctor who kept weighing and measuring me and then asked a lot of questions about what I ate, and did some of those skin prick tests. My parents told me it was because I needed a check up. I later found out my headmistress had told them to send me there because I was too heavy for a girl of my age.
Then when I was 8 we moved to France. Even then I didn't realize I was fat, until one day I got off the bus and a girl shouted "Bye, Ashley" (my friend), "Bye Fatso" (me). I told my parents and they said I wasn't fat and should ignore it. This girl, and all her horrible friends, carried on with it though, on the bus they used to push me around and call me a fat cow, fat bitch, etc. My father went to the school to get it stopped because they covered me in Dr Pepper, however he said he wouldn't have done anything if that hadn't happened, because names couldn't hurt me. How wrong he was.
Two years later I appeared in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. My best friend was there too and we were being measured for dresses. The woman measured me but not my slim friend: she just added three inches to the height and removed six inches from the measurement. I was absolutely stunned, to think that I was that big compared to her.
Six months after THAT we were both being teased at school, by kids who used to spit at us and push us around. I heard them talking about a new girl in my class, who was much bigger than me and they said "She's even fatter than Louise." That REALLY hurt.
Now I'm 14 and still big, and always on a diet. I think I'm slimmer now than I used to be, though. It is weird, being so big makes me think fat is bad and ugly, but if I was thin I know I'd say it's important to accept fat people. The good thing is, nobody bullies me about my size any more. Maybe that should just be enough.
This is my story... I hated school and who wouldn't if you were anything like me. I was always "different", I liked music more than the latest trends and I thought for myself. I was always the last person chosen for gym class and in volleyball the other girls aimed at my head. It was humiliating. When puberty hit it only got worse I wasn't skinny anymore. In retrospect I was average weight but the standards were so high. Average wasn't enough. I was called fat all the time because my hip bones did not protrude enough. Add the fact that I also got into Goth/punk before it was more commonplace so being weird AND fat was apparently unforgivable by my peers. I did my best to get out of the experience in one piece thinking someday I could overcome the narrow mindedness. Unfortunately being an adult is worse. The playground is often just as bad and the stakes are higher. I have dealt with loving someone who wanted a supermodel, size prejudice in the workplace, self esteem issues. I try not to carry my school days with me. I work on loving myself but I still have those scars. The feeling of never being quite good enough follows me around like a lost puppy.
For all the fat kids in school....believe in yourself. Get everything in check before it takes over your life.
This is my story... Well where should I start?? I'm 16 at the end of this month and I thought id share with you my story....
I was a skinny little girl at junior school and some times y mm would get worried that there was something wrong with me, at 7 I had my tonsils removed and I began putting on weight it wasn't too bad! Through primary school id get the odd spiteful remark, then I started secondary school and every thing changed, I started a school with few friends and with in the first few months I had none I was miserable, unhappy and FAT! At lunch time I would stay in the toilets and eat my packed lunch rather than face the loneliness and torments of other people I would stand in the cubical and move from one to the other in case anyone thought I was up 2 something to try and divert there attention, and I would stand there and cry, I through myself into my school work rather than make friends which got me a name of a "boffin" which I wasn't I didn't make any close fiends for a while and would often sat in my room and watch the light bulb swinging from he cable an which I had the guts to get a rope and tie myself up, but I couldn't ever do it I couldn't put my family through that, I used 2 fake being ill rather than go 2 school and id go for weeks without doing p.e, my teacher often got me into her office and looked at me in disgust and have a go at me for not doing p.e, she told me off for coming last in running round the field and told me off for not wearing shorts the summer months (did she really think I enjoyed it?? it was either that or show off my flabby legs).
There was one boy in particular who just would not leave me alone and constantly picked on me everywhere I turned he was there laughing at me he was so intimidating! I was always reporting him to the teachers but because he had problems of his own not much was said! One day I came home and told my mum that he threaten to smash my dads head in with a bat! She phoned my dad (who isn't a particularly fat man but quite broad and strong and it shows) he took me round this boy's house and had a word with him and is mum with me.... and well this boy hasn't looked me in the eye since!! I began hanging around with some girls who I though were my friends they used to taunt me and push me over because they thought it was funny to se me "bouncing" on the floor they thought it was funny to see me run to the toilets in tears! I went on a diet with one of them we wet to all the classes and I stuck to it religiously it was quite high in fiber and I think I did it wrong because it didn't work this girl went around school telling people how much I weighed one day I was eating my sandwich and another girl started on me (I hadn't even said a word to her) she started laughing at me calling me a fat cow there were about 10 other girls around me they just stood there and watched some even sniggered when she finished shouting at me she carried on talking to her mates as if nothing had happened I felt the hot tears run down my face and a lump in my throat I couldn't say anything I mean she was the "leader" of my group how could I have go at her? (Even now as I think about I my eyes are filling up with tears as the memory is coming back), my family did support me but hey weren't fully aware of what was happing and how unhappy I was!
From that day on I decided I would make myself a better person then any of them so I found a group of friends who were nice to me (last year) and I began to settle in (after 3yrs of torment) I went on a diet with my mum and lost just over 2 stone I felt so happy everything was falling into place I now have a social life and am never at home Friday nights and Saturdays its brilliant!!! Although I still have a weight problem and its begging to creep back on I can manage it, although I haven't had a boyfriend well ever I start collage and hopefully I can get away from the immature spiteful mouthed teenagers and may be meet someone??? It's always a possibility!!! But I still have no confidence I myself and I still blush every time anyone talks to me but I am becoming slightly more confident with me and now I'm getting away from those memories that people have of me and in a way starting a new life for myself!!! Just remember to look after yourself and don’t let people who make your life a misery because they shouldn't get away with it!!!!!
This is my story... This is not my story it's my daughters. Since she started school she was tormented by other kids EVERY single day. In kindergarten she was told she could not sit at their table - she was too fat. Every day in school they would verbally abuse her by asking her how many lunches she would eat or shout "MOOOOOOve over cattle crossing." I called the Minisink school district and asked them to have a assembly on peer pressure and abuse to overweight students. They said kids will be kids. Well because of the non-caring teachers my daughter had made the wrong friends because she wanted one so bad, wanted to commit suicide, ended up in a diagnostic center because of this. They don't live with her and don't hear her cry every night because of the torment. She refuses to take gym because she will not undress in front of a bunch of Barbie dolls. My daughter is angry and so am I that such things go on in life and that people are so cruel. Including the teachers. We have moved to a different area so she can get away from the abuse she took for 9yrs. My daughters childhood memories that are suppose to be so wonderful are nothing but a living nightmare.
This is my story... It didn't matter what I wore, or how I styled my hair. You still mocked me. You spit on me and called me names, and laughed with your friends.
When I was 12, your name was Cory. You pretended to ask me out and be my "steady". But it was all a cruel joke, one that lasted for months. But I didn't laugh.
When I was 13, your name was Alan. You got others to call me "Jabba the Hut", and made fun of how I crossed my legs. It lasted a year until you moved away.
When I was 14, your name was Martha. You and my best friend from kindergarten decided that you were going to try out for cheerleading. And I didn't "fit" your image. So you dumped me.
When I was 15, your name was Barbie. You called all of the bakeries in town and ordered sheet cakes with pigs on them. They all said "Happy Birthday, Piggy!" You stopped when my dad called the police.
When I was 16, your teasing and taunting finally got to me. I replayed my mom's words over and over as I tried to slit my wrists. She said, "Consider the source...."
Now I am 30. I am still fat. I am BEAUTIFUL. I have accepted myself. I thank God for making me who I am, what I am and giving me another chance. I have a terrific husband, a beautiful daughter and wonderful friends. I enjoy my life. And although I may remember the names of those who have hurt me so much in the past, that is all that I remember about those individuals. Anyone who really got to know me in those years remember a fun person, one who was caring and compassionate, one who loved to sing. Those that looked beyond my weight when I was younger gave me the courage to become who I am today. And when I think back to Cory and Alan, Barbie and Martha, I think of how insecure and threatened they must have felt by me. Why else would they feel the need to cut me down, only to make themselves feel better? Build their own selves up by tearing away at me? Fifteen years later it seems so ridiculous, I have to stop and laugh. The laughter has replaced the many tears that I shed during my school days and I think of how what seemed so crushing at the time is truly irrelevant in the grand scheme of life. I am the same person at 30 that I was at 13. I've just learned to love myself for who I am and not what I look like.
And anytime I'm faced with a tough situation, Mom still gives me the same advice. Consider the source....
This is my story... I was fat. It is just so easy to say that now. But when I was younger, the word fat was taboo. My friends were afraid to even utter it in my presence for fear of hurting my feelings.
And those who weren't my friends were not so nice about it. Oil-tanker, giant-sea-floating-organism and enormous-million-pounded-tub-of-lard were some of the more "creative" nicknames that I've heard over the years.
I can never forget the sneers on their faces when they say it to my face, and laughing like they've cracked the funniest joke on earth.
And like most of the human population out there, I took solace in food. And of course, that makes matters worse.
That went for a long, long time. Years to be exact. My family members were constantly nagging at me to do something about my weight. And I always felt inferior to my friends because of my figure and size.
I tried to lose weight, but I did not have the determination and the discipline. Being fat was my obstacle, and I simply could not overcome it.
I tried living with it, but it was not easy, living in a world where most people are superficial and obsessed with the idea of beauty. And being fat is simply NOT beautiful.
And finally, everything reached the point when I just can't take it anymore. And I started acting like a snob to everyone. It was my only form security, but I also became less and less popular. Life seems bleak and miserable for the poor fat girl back then.
Until someone, who can't bear to see me spend the rest of my life being miserable, stepped in to help me change my life. And that person is my mother. She dragged me to a doctor, and insisted she do something about me, her fat daughter. It was all pretty funny, my mum and the speechless doctor, both looking at me, trying to think of someway to jab me from the fat, ugly pig into a fairy-tale princess.
That did not happen though. I went for several appointments, had talks on weight-control, and the importance of exercise. I also dutifully ate the pills that the doctor prescribed to help me control my appetite.
And after the first month, I started to lose weight. I started to do light exercises as prescribed by the doctor. And from then on, things started to improve.
People that used to walk past me in the corridors, comment on my lost. Friends who were always there for me, were there to give me thumbs-up.
And suddenly, I found myself to have a lot of friends. Even those people who used to look at me like I'm an alien. They would comment that I look better now. I know that it was just a roundabout way of saying, now that you're looking more like a human than a pig, you can join our activities, because you won't embarrass us anymore.
The events later on were rather blurry. I kept up with my diet, obsessed with it, and I would have kept on with it until I die of anorexia or bulimia, until one day, I stopped and looked at myself. I realized that no matter what I do, people will always find something to talk about. I decided to drop my diet, and concentrate on living the life, that my mother and my doctor help me achieve.
Now, even though I'm not the slim or perfect figured types, I'm healthy, and I have fun being myself. I'm quite happy with the way my life is going. So what if I have a big rear end, and sometimes, people still comment that I'm still not slim enough. I would always tell them that, no matter how much I try, I can't please anyone. I've achieved my standards, and I'm contented.
This is my story... I am in 6th grade and almost all the girls in my class like myself are chubby! The only girls who aren't are mean! nobody ever gets picked on except for this girl, named Brianna. I feel sorry for her. She is very tall too! I just want to say that anyone who has ever picked on a chubby kid is horrible! I know this girl who used to be chubby and she stopped eating and had to go to a hospital. I donno where she is now! I have lost weight but I remember crying because I got picked on once in second grade and that was the only time I was ever picked on.
This is my story... This is my fat kid story. I moved to Michigan when I turned 8. I just lost my parent and had to move in with my grandparents. That's when I began gaining weight..
By 9th grade...I was 270 pounds. First day of high school, I was ridiculed...I came from a public school into a private catholic school and didn't know a soul. I always used humor as my means of being okay with myself and letting everyone realize I had something to offer.
Well, first day of 9th grade came. Some guy suggested I become bulimic...I said, "I would, but I'm afraid I'd eat my arm!" They didn't laugh..they all moved to a different table, leaving me to eat by myself..
I did make one friend...His name was Jon...He knew I had a crush on this girl in the Theater department. He suggested I ask her to Homecoming..After some coaxing...I finally went through with it...She said no..
That night, I had Jon over...I began to weep. He told me to cut it out and that he thought I was gay... He said he wouldn't be friends with a gay person, let alone a fat one...He walked out and we never spoke again..
Word got out that my parents had died...People stopped making fun of me and just ignored me...I was nothing...
The summer before my Junior year, I got Leukemia. By December, I was ready to go back to school...I was invited to look around the school and to re-familiarize myself with the school...
The counselor asked if I wanted to see the banner for our Boy's Soccer Team State Championship. I walked into the gym and...
An overwhelming amount of applause hit me...People were on their feet cheering for me, that I made it through okay...Even Jon...
People can be cruel, but remember, they're just people.
This is my story... Well my name is Megan and I am 11 years old. I am 5"0 and weigh 120 pounds. I hate the way I look and I starve myself, exercise continuously. but after that I eat eat and eat. my sister and her friends only make it worse making me drown my sorrows in food. I think my sister should grow up cuz she is 18!and also is over weight but lost almost 100 pounds so I can't say anything back when she calls me chunky butt. I am very popular at school but still everyone I know except my really good friends talk about how fat I am behind my back and my one friend Jessica who never ever talks bad about me in some way kinda makes it worse. because she is 11 also and in grade 7 also and used to weigh 52 pounds and now weighs 74 pounds but still looks great. I hate all beauty magazines because of the beautiful skinny models but I still can't help but read them. People tell me I'll get taller and the fat will go away but I know it won't. it'll never go away. I feel horrible about myself.
This is my story... When I was around 9-12 years old I was so not happy with my life. I weighed more than most kids. I was very tall I know that I was around 5'4-5'8. The tallness didn't hide my weight so much. It was hard for me to make friends because my self esteem went so low. I made friends and they were embarrassed by my looks so they left me in the dust. I hated buying school clothing so badly. I was made fun of so badly I even had to lie a lot so people would not find out. When people asked how much I weighed I said that I didn't have a scale (which is not true). It hurt me even more when my brother called me names and told kids at my school to call me them. He always used the name Biggie. Biggie was a rapper that was very overweight that died of heart failure. I felt that I would never get a boyfriend never make friends that were girls, and never be able to wear those cool outfits that are only made in the real skinny sizes. But I tried to not let that stop me, I bought so cool clothing that some kids at my school just didn't understand why a "Fat Kid" was wearing that kind of clothing. So I went back to my dull baggy clothing. I tried dieting- didn't do much for me. Not eating- Hurt me. Exercising- made me feel worse. And as a girl it is even more harder to be fat because you know how girls are suppose to look like in all. I just hated myself and my life! I felt like just killing myself at times. Now as a teen I still look the same but have regained some of my self esteem. I have some new friends that are boys but they are my buddies. now I just need friends that are girls to talk about things that they can relate to. I now wear what I want as long as it fits. And when people call me fat I am still sad but I tell them that I like the way I look. And that my friend is true!
This is my story... I am 28 years old and have forgotten all my child memories except being a fat child getting made fun of in school. It was almost like torture going threw school days when all the kids made fun of me and called me names like "fatzilla" and "chunkorilius". every day I got home and cried. I felt ashamed to eat snacks and didn't want to anymore. I have not forgotten about my child hood memories and will never forget them.
This is my story... The hardest lesson of school for me was finding out that I wasn't like the other kids. I was usually one of the first picked for things like football, but I was last pick at the dances. At 15 I weighed 180 pounds at 5´ 6". The most hurtful thing that happened to me was when a girl I secretly had a crush on asked me to the dance and didn't show up. All the popular kids were snickering at me as they showed up in pretty, thin pairs so I knew they were all in on it. Every time I see a blonde girl I can't help remembering that afternoon. That school was hell, but now I'm in college and I have a great relationship with a sweet, intelligent who cares about all of me.
This is my story... I'm about five feet and 115 pounds. If I told you I felt fat you'd probably tell me to shut up and go cry a river. But I do.
I became anorexic in seventh grade, bulimic in eighth. Bulimia has followed me all the way to college. I have dreams about my esophagus rupturing. I live in fear of dying of a heart attack.
All I can say is this probably never would have started if I hadn't been told that, at about 88 pounds, I could "stand to lose some weight." My mother, petite and probably somewhat anorexic herself, drove into my mind that not rail-thin=fat and fat=lazy and lazy=failure. I don't know what to do some days. I wish I could eat normally, not forever starving or binging. Word of advice: Parents, let your children grow into their bodies. As long as they eat healthily, normally, let them a lone. At puberty, most girls could "stand to lose a few pounds"....but that wouldn't be healthy. Tomorrow I start Slim Fast, maybe that will work... it makes me sad to think about all the time I have wasted with this awful eating disorder. No one should have to go through this, and often it seems I am the only one that does.
This is my story... I am an overweight kid right now. I'm 13 and female. I try my best to fit in but it doesn't work. I'm called names like fat chick and moocow. I just want to be cool. if I could change anything about me it would be my weight because I believe if I was slimmer I would be beautiful. I hate my looks. its upsetting. but I'm losing weight and hopefully I might get what I want
This is my story... It was my 8th grade year. I was 160 lbs , and 5'5". I used to dread going to school in fear of what may come my way as far as fat jokes or harassment from the others. It was in 9th grade I started to throw up whatever I ate. I couldn't handle it, I'd wake up and yell at myself. Telling myself I had no control, if I had control I would not eat. So I did this for the next year. 10th grade; I hated myself, tried to commit suicide 4 times, and I hated throwing up. So in response I just stopped eating. I got down to 115 lbs, within a matter of months. People started to notice me, said I looked better. So I kept it up, it got to the point where I could hardly lift myself out of bed I was so weak. I just hated myself, I hated myself for being fat, I hated myself for not being strong, I just hated being me. It got better as time went on, but I will never forget what all those kids said to me and how I ruined my health to fit into there perfect Barbie world. I am now only a senior, I still have my moment when someone will have a bright idea to call me fat and I won't eat for a week. but I always come to and see its not right. I wish I could just once and for all get over it, but the truth is I never will.
God must love or hate me, I'm not sure which, because most of the painful memories from my school life have been locked away in the dark recesses of my troubled mind, but I still have plenty.
I remember my earliest being in Kindergarten. I was playing on this wooden playground my school has. Out of nowhere a gang of my fellow classmates attacked me. I was shoved onto some wooden stairs, kicked, stomped on, hit, pinched, spit on, stepped on, my hair was pulled, all while the recess monitor, the other Kindergarten classes' teacher, watched, and did nothing. I still bear a scar where my hand was stomped on and my knuckle split.
I was also deathly afraid of heights (buying into the "the bigger they are, the harder they fall" theory), and I was swinging alone, only going medium-high, and quite enjoying myself. This girl came along and offered to push me in the swing. I was so hungry for companionship, I let her. Soon I began to get higher than I was comfortable with. In a panic I jumped as the swing met even with the top bar, about 10 feet off the ground. It was absolutely a miracle that I came out of it with not even a broken bone.
Then, in I believe 2nd grade, a student put a fire ant on me that decided to bite on the soft part of my under arm (not arm pit, the under side of my upper arm) and I spent the day in agony. My arm felt like it was on fire (thus the name "fire ant") and I had to keep going to the nurse for ice ( a bag an hour for a total of 6 bags that whole day) to make the pain bearable, to which she asked "Do you really need all this ice?" to which now I would have replied, "Do you need my foot up your ass?"
These are the only blatant memories of physical violence I have, though I <b><u>KNOW</b></u> there are more. The worst torture I suffered was emotional.
There was a 3rd grade teacher that hated me for my size, and was not secretive about it. I had "cry baby syndrome" due to the loss of my beloved brother (who I'll discuss later on in this rant). She used this as a way to punish me for my weight. When I'd start to cry, she'd tell me to go into this room (it was more like a passage way between two sets of double doors. It couldn't have measured more than 4'w X 4'l X 6.5'h) and cry at the wall. I thought she did this because I was uncontrollable, but I'd then notice that she'd only have me do this, that any other students were not only allowed to cry, but she comforted them.
These events occurred in the first 4 years of my schooling. AND this is only what happened to me. My brother, who was also fat, went through tortures I'd never have survived.
My brother, Shawn, was by far a genius. He was doing college level algebra by age 13/14. He was even teaching his own TEACHERS algebra. Harvard, Stanford, and Yale had all pretty much promised him a seat in their classrooms after graduation by the time he was in 8th grade. He was the brightest star my school had ever known, and ever WOULD know, but they still treated him inhumanly.
There was a teacher there, who's name I will not mention here to save his piddly reputation. He was a terrible man. He'd have boys over to his house and show them dirty movies, give them dirty magazines, and he'd try to look up the little girl's skirts (even having a fit with my parents for making me wear shorts under all my skirts and dresses). This horrible man was revered and respected at my school. It was this man who tortured my brother the most. During a P.E. class, for no real reason I can think of, this teacher starts to discuss men's penis sizes, stating that "black men have big ones, white men have small ones, and fat guys don't have any at all" then turned to point at my brother. How he could hold his head up after that, I'll never know.
My brother would be teased and humiliated by students, that would then turn around and beg his help in school work. Then, at age 14, he died suddenly one night of a rare form of meningitis. Those very same students appeared at his funeral acting as if they were all Shawn's best friends, and to add insult to injury, THAT teacher spoke at his funeral. I'm thankful that I was spared the knowledge of what this teacher did to him, because even at 6 years old, I fear I'd have slit his throat as he spoke.
God is good sometimes, because not long after my brother died, that bastard had a heart attack and died on the school bleachers.
The point of all this inane ranting is that these tortures would have been avoided if only a teacher had spoken up, and instead of the ol' cop-out standby, "If you don't get upset when they make fun of you, they will stop", they had said, "You don't deserve to be treated this way, I'll put a stop to it." It would have made my life, and my brother's lives a lot richer, happier, and fuller.
I make this plea to any parents of fat children: Please, I BEG you, if your child is being teased or physically assaulted for their weight, DO NOT accept this as "all part of growing up". Take your ass down to their school, and raise hell! A black kid cannot be teased, any other minorities cannot be teased, demand that your child not be allowed to be teased, either.
This is my story... I am to a fat kid I am 13yrs old and I weigh over 350lbs. but I tell other kids that I weigh less then 300lbs.sometimes I hate going to school because I know that the other kids will tease me and call me names like fatso,tub of lard, orca, fat pig, etc, etc. I really hate gym because some days we will play basketball and the teams will divided into shirt or skins and the other kids will pick me on the skin side just so they can pick on me. and they know that I hate to take off my shirt to show mine body. if I don't take off mine shirt the teacher will flunk me and if I do take off mine shirt the other kids will just laugh at me. and sometimes the other kids will walk up walk up to me and will squeeze mine big belly and then they will run away because they know that I cannot catch them. sometimes mine best friend who is real skinny he weighs around 75lbs will help me and sometimes he will tease me like the other kids. no matter how hard I try to lose weight I just can't do it. especially when people start to call me names about mine weight I just go home and eat all day. also I have to sit at a table because the desk are to small for me to sit in, so that gives the other kids to tease me about.
This is my story... This is my story. I am a 15 year old and still am in school. I am a fat obese girl. It is the hardest thing anyone must go through. Well I have a story that sticks out in my mind. Well, actually it just happened yesterday. I walked into Chemistry class after lunch (which for me, consisted of a left-over doughnut form breakfast.) A guy named Justin walked in and told no one in particular that Kristen had a boyfriend. Now, Kristen is this girl in our school who memorizes the yearbook and phone book. She knows everyone's name and phone number and address, scary stuff. Plus, she's really annoying. Always asking stupid questions (remember what teachers say "there's no stupid questions"-well, after having Kristin in their class, they never repeat that again) and telling us stuff we could care less about. She has the title of the most annoying girl in school. So when I was told that SHE, of all girls in our school has a boyfriend, I was crushed. I may be fat, but I'm not a bad looking girl. I get hit on by tons of older guys, but I've never actually had a boyfriend. I am at a lost for words now. I hate being fat. Why can't I be thin and wear Express jeans and tight baby t-shirts?
This is my story... My story is like the many others written here. My mother had put me on every diet known to man, to no avail. My grandmother used to pat my protruding belly and say, with pity in her voice "I wish you could loose that tummy." I outwardly shrugged off the comments from friends and family. Their comments really hurt though. At night I used to cry and pray "Please help me to have the will power to loose this weight." Nothing ever worked. Those who have not lived their entire lives being overweight could never understand what it is like. I have had my stomach stapled and have lost all 130 of those extra pounds that I carried around. I have gained much self confidence but not all of it. I carry around with me the extra skin that used to be filled with fat. I don't look good in shorts and you still would not catch me at the pool. But I can pass as a "normal" person. I am married to a wonderful man who calls me his princess and tells me that I am perfect the way I am. I still feel like a fat person, and always will. I have two beautiful children now. My 11 year old son is 50 pounds overweight, and my 7 year old daughter has just lately developed a little tummy. I feel helpless to help them. I never learned how to help myself, so how can I help them. I know my son gets teased. He doesn't ever want to talk about it. We are trying weight watchers right now. He has lost 15 pounds and seems very motivated. I too lost a few pounds on the many diets I tried as a child. The lost pounds always found me though, and brought more with them. Now at night when I cry and pray for help, its for my children. I would gladly take all the weight back to spare them the horror of growing up as a fat kid. It is a horror. "Normal" children and adults have no tolerance for fat. It's sad really. Fat people are the most loving and giving people. We have to be. Otherwise we would die of loneliness
This is my story... I have blocked out most of my childhood. What does come back now and then usually makes me cry. I have two children, a 5th grader and a 2nd grader. I have home schooled them their entire lives. I never wanted them to go through what I did. I have had to go back to work now and next year I will have to put them in school. I am having nightmares about it and cry constantly. I am trying to be positive for their sake. I hope that they will make friends. I hope that they don't get teased. I hope I hope. But I know they will. I love them so much. I wish I could protect them from the pain that society inflicts on overweight people. There are so many of us you would think it would be more accepted. We are not the minority we are the common. Fat is not ugly it's just different.
This is my story... Hey, my name is becca, and I'm only 11 but I have quite a story. When I was 11 years old I got a stomach thing called esophogitus. at that time I was over weight by about 30 pounds. I was happy go lucky and I really never thought about my weight until I got esopgogitus. I was scared to eat when I'm got it because it hurt so badly. I lost 40 pounds in 2 months. So as of now, I am a very average kid. but all the time I think about it and how I ever lived with being fat, but its not a bad thing and don't let people get you down about being a size bigger then them.
This is my story... I'm 11 years old and weigh 125 its a horrible felling but
all the other girls at school wear nice clothing and my mom spends the whole day looking for one outfit so I'm trying to stop eating because I told myself I will be fit by summer and I'm getting there right now.
This is my story... I've been a big girl as long as I could remember- I didn't even like junk food when I was growing up, I guess it's just my genetic makeup and love of sitting quietly with a good book. Everything was alright though, till the third grade. That's when I went to a private school...the kids there were supposed to be really nice, but unfortunately they all happened to be really skinny and came from houses where carob was considered an adequate substitute for chocolate (it's not). Because of this, I stuck out even more and so got teased. I remember my mother telling my best friend (at the time) a story about how when I was two, she told me I could be anything I wanted to be and I said I wanted to be a fire truck. Well, you can just imagine what happened. She told everyone, and I was told by my classmates that I would indeed be a fire truck if I didn't lose weight. I also remember one of the boys at my school telling me that I was going to break the floor; he did not listen to me when I pointed out that if our teacher (a 6 ft. adult male) wasn't in danger of breaking the floor, neither was I. That school only went up to 6th grade though, and I'd hoped that 7th grade would be better. It wasn't- at least in my private school, no one threatened my life. The kids in public school said things like "this necklace is worth more than you are" and "you know I'm gonna kill you, right?" Well, the teachers in my public school were more sympathetic, and tried to protect me- but I didn't want to be protected. I wanted to fight back. I made a commitment to myself never to go on a diet; I've managed to stick with that to this day. I also became involved with various subcultures; being a "freak" helped me to find friends who would accept me for who I am AND had the added bonus of scaring away attackers. Thinking back on all of this now, I want to strangle whoever first said that ridiculous statement, sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never harm me. Words do hurt, a lot. Now that I am a senior in college, no one really pays attention to my weight (though I am firmly in the BBW body range) which is just as well, since I don't pay attention to it either. I refuse to weigh myself or let the doctor tell me what the scale says- it will just make me needlessly self-conscious. I still am a "freak", and proud. I don't see why society has the right to tell us how to look, dress, or be. Ultimately I hope to change society, so my kids won't go through the hell that I went through. But I refuse to be anyone but myself now, no matter what anyone thinks. Anyways, thanks for listening, and remember, believe in yourself!
This is my story... When I was younger I was teased for being fat, once I left grade school, I became anorexic, for two years now I have been. While this has helped me lose a lot of weight, I will always be stuck with the side effects. Please don't do this to yourself.
This is my story... I'm 17 and from Scotland. most of the stories on this site are from America and are a hell of a lot different from mine. For the first four years of high school I wasn't just called "fatty" or anything like that I was subject to assholes in the street screaming abuse at me, usually things like "fat bitch", "fat cunt" etc. Not only this, but if I turned 'round to say anything or even just look to see who it was that was yelling at me or throwing things at me (I've had broken glass thrown at me) then one of these annoying little cretins would pick a fight with me, usually starting with "what the fuck are you lookin' at u fat cow". If I told any of my teachers about this they would either not believe me or say they'd deal with it but they never seemed to do anything about it. The most they'd do is speak 2 the pupil and then I'd end up in another fight with the pupil a week later for being a "grass". Now that I'm in my last year at school people are a lot better, the only problem is that I have built up this defense mechanism (I cannot spell. lol.) so that whenever someone gets close or tries to help me with something I won't let them. I'm am still overweight and I still have huge problems because of it. The only time I don't seem to care is when I try to forget about it, and now if someone calls me fat I tend to lose my temper and threaten them. There was this time about 1 year ago I had an argument with my friend and she told me that I was going to die because I was so fat, I totally lost control and smashed her head off a tiled wall. She was fine (a bit shaken but fine) but I wasn't, she forgave me but I've never forgiven myself or the people that drove me to act like that. Nothing like that has happened recently and hopefully it won't happen again.
to sum up my school sucks big time at dealing with problems and never seemed to care less. Was you're school any better?
This is my story... I was thin until I hit puberty. I grew up on a farm, I did a lot of work and play outdoors, but I ate too much fattening food. When I hit puberty the weight just piled on! I didn't realize I was overweight until I was 14. I was home-schooled until my freshman year of high school...and let me tell you, high school can be cruel when you've never set foot in a public school. I realize now that I wasn't that big--only a size 14! But people made me feel a lot fatter than I actually was. Gym was the worst! There were two guys in my class who always made fun of me and my "big a$$." There was a guy in my Spanish class who pretended to ask me out as a joke. the girls were never mean outright...just really patronizing. I starved and even made myself throw up until I lost about twenty pounds. I was sick, I looked awful. I dated a guy who broke my heart...the weight came back and then some. It wasn't until college that I managed to get a grip on myself and be healthy (keep the weight off WITHOUT hurting myself). I still feel ugly and ashamed of myself sometimes.
This is my story... I am 16. I am 240 lbs. I have a 38 inch waist. I have a disease: being fat. I have been fat for most of my life, since I was 8 or so. by 6th grade it was very clear to me that being fat wasn't acceptable. it was at this time I turned to music. music is the only thing in my life that will never double cross me. I listen to "bad music" such as Korn, limp bizkit, adema and other bands that do nothing negative at all, but vent anger out through music. I am constantly having names and any other things thrown at me. I am always picked last to play sports in gym and I don't even play sports anywhere else anymore, not even at home. I used to play baseball and football but I couldn't' take the harassment from peers and coaches anymore. I am especially sick of this one asshole named Brandon. he was my friend until he got skinny. now the only thing that escapes his mouth towards me is, "hey, look at Adam's tits. they are bigger than Britney spears'." the one thing that hurts the worst is all the guys and their girlfriends and how happy they are. I have never even come close to having a girlfriend. all I hear about from other guys is how they got lucky. I can count on one hand how many people at my school haven't had something even close to sex. I sit in my room virtually every night as tears of anguish roll down my cheeks thinking that no girl will ever remotely enjoy me. my hormones are so strong and I am so desperate that I just finished my probation sentence I received for being caught looking in places I shouldn't. there isn't a school day that goes by that I don't hear a comment like, "what's wrong? no one wants your fat ugly body, so you have to secretly watch them." I also have a mild case of epilepsy (when you have seizures) from worrying too much and being put under tremendous stress. I feel a little closer to the edge of suicide every day. I can only hope I make to my adulthood. each minute is a struggle through life for a fat person. my greatest wish is to rid the world of ALL fat-discrimination. I must fight the freedom to destroy the 'hate the fat' mind frame of the next generation.
This is my story... When I was little, everyone said two boys loved me! I was thrilled! The bad part was that I was in the 5th grade and weighed 178. I didn't eat meat and I did sit ups etc. one day one of the boys came back from sea world and gave me a b.day gift, I just want to say to the little people out there, fat helps you develop! People still may like you, and that is a fact! Never give up hope!!!
This is my story... I was always a fat kid. I remember all the way back to preschool being different looking and not being able to run and play as hard as the other kids. My family lived way out in the country where there was no other kids to play with. As a result, I was very stationary, ate lots of snacks, and watched TV. Starting with 3rd and 4th grades I started to get heavier. I got Ms. Piggy, fat slob, moo cow, stinky sow, etc. As a result, I withdrew and developed extreme social anxiety. As I went into jr. high in 1988 puberty was not kind to me. I wore sweat pants and huge t-shirts to school. I went home crying on an almost daily basis. My parents couldn't afford private school, and were at a loss of what to do about my weight. As I went into high school, I turned to drugs. The 'head' crowd was much kinder and accepting of my appearance. I slimmed down a bit but was still a size 16, which in high school was like being an elephant. However, the massive drug use impaired my judgment, and as a result I was raped by five of my 'friends' during a drug filled afternoon. I tried to put this behind me and go on as if nothing happened. I cleaned up my appearance and sought new friends. Funny, now that I had lost some weight (size 12) and cleaned up, the popular kids were so much nicer to me. I developed a couple of close relationships with guys in that crowd, but they didn't work out. I always thought. it is because they are embarrassed to be seen with me ..the fat girl. Those years of being tormented about my weight and appearance still are in my mind. I think every time a relationship doesn't work, or I don't get asked out, or called again...it is my weight (even though I am now a size 8). This kind of social and verbal abuse can ruin one's entire self -image and hopes of healthy relationships. Parents-- if your young child has a weight problem, seek help. Play with them actively and keep minimal junk food in the house. Above all, if they are in a continually upsetting school situation REMOVE THEM! PROTECT THEM. IT IS YOUR JOB AS A PARENT.
This is my story... When I was growing up between kindergarten and 8th grade I was always picked on because I was extremely obese. I had a low self esteem about my self and I was a loner. At lunch was the perfect opportunity for kids to pick on me. They use to throw their leftover food at me and tell me to eat it fat boy otherwise they would beat me up after school. I was terrified so I was eating lots of food 4 or 5 times more than other kids. I did not tell mom or dad and they had me on strict diets at home and wondering why it would not work. I felt sick and malaise and puked a lot. Then when I got to 7th and 8th grade I became depressed and stood 5 feet 5 inches and weighed 255 lbs. I was very depressed and the kids still would not leave me alone. They would get cute and say don't wear an x on your shirt because a helicopter might land on it. Or they would say don't go swim in the Atlantic ocean because they might think there's and oil spill (I'm black). By the time I reached 10th grade I was fed up with it. I joined football team as a non starter just to burn calories. It was working. I hit the gym 5 days a week right there in the school gym. I did this all the way through my senior year. I was in a lot better shape but still 20 lbs over weight. I said the heck with this I'm going for muscularity now. I joined the marine corps at 18 and the recruiter got me to only 5 lbs overweight the rest I lost in boot camp. At 20 years old I was getting into bodybuilding and getting very big, not fat. Now at age 22 years old I enter local bodybuilding contests and hope to be an international contender in a couple years. I go to local night clubs and I cant seem to go in without the girls looking at me and jumping all over me.
This is my story... I remember when I was born I was always the fat chubby little girl with her cousins. I remember The at the age of 6 i was all ready the size 10 yearold boy, but alot heavier. Most of my family are large, so I dont know if i eat to much or am naturally that way. I remember when I went to school grades 1-7 we had to run a mile it always took me at least 30 min, while it took the others 10 at most, I remember all the boys laughing and say "i wonder if the pig will go any faster", or the girls would say " she is soooo ugly, im glad im not her." Then after we were finshed with the mile they would always make me get weighed while the kids watched. But now im in high school, im 14, and I will be entering my sophmore year as soon as school starts but I do still get picked on. But to tell you the truth I hardly pay attenion, and I have noticed, hey im big, but you know something I may fat, but your skinny and are an ass, so get a life. I mean Im in a school where 18 and 19 year olds pick on me.. But I feel someone will get them back for what they have done to me and to others....
This is my story... I think I was in Grade 3 when I really started noticing a change in my body and the way the kids at school treated me. Up until I was seven, I was of average weight and didn't look any different from my peers. I think my pure addiction to sweets was what did me in and the fact that I was a latchkey kid didn't help either. Basically, I would eat whatever was in the fridge until my parents came home from work.
I hated recess time, because the kids would run around and call me "Army Tank" and "Fatty, Fatty two by Four". I would pretend that it didn't hurt, but it did. I had only a couple of friends. It wasn't until grade 7 when I finally decided that enough was enough. I got into physical activity and ate more healthy foods. By the time I graduated highschool I had reached an average weight for my height and I was very happy. I know that I will never be able to just eat whatever I want, but I live with that. I now have two daughters of my own and don't want them to go through the same problems I had, so I encourage healthy snacks and physical activity.
This is my story... I never really ever thought I was fat as I was growing up. I never even thought I was overweight. I just remember my mom saying that it was only baby fat and that it would go away. But I didn't. I guess it started around 5th grade. I remember I went with my grandmother clothes shopping. I was trying on some jeans and they didnt fit. My grandmother called the sales woman over, leaned over, and whispered loudly into her ear, "Could we find some jeans that would fit her. She's just too fat for these." I could feel my face turning red and I looked down and for the first time I thought I was fat. Over the next few years I tryed everything to lose weight. Only to please my mother, grandmother, and other family members who whispered, "what does her mother feed her?" at the annual family reunions. I finally gave up. I started eating all the time. I would eat my breakfast and then as soon as I ate that and everyone was out of the kitchen I would eat another packet of pop-tarts or another bowl of rice krispies-(with 4 spoonfuls of sugar, just like I liked it). My mom would buy those little debbie snacks and I would eat 2 or 3 at one sitting. I kept promising myself, "Once I reach 130 pounds I'll go on a diet." 130 pounds slowly changed to 140, then 150, then 175, then 200. I would go to my bedroom and looked at myself in the mirror. A solitary tear running a path down my puffy cheek. I went to a small, private school. (I should mention that by 7th grade most of the girls still hadn't reached 110 pounds, while I was pushing 175.) I was pretty well liked by all the other girls but I knew I would never go to parties with them or to the mall. (Not like I could ever shop at their stores anyways) But it was the guys that chose to torment me. I would just be walking and not bothering anybody and they would come up from behind me and push me down and then hold me down and say things like, "Whats the matter? Too fat to get up?" It wasnt really the physical abuse but the mental abuse that got to me. And you know how little seventh grade sex humor is- I would make perverted jokes along with all the guys, and that was the only times that they would hang around me. One day, this boy finally said, "Why do you talk about this sex stuff, Your so fat no one will ever fuck you." Those words hurt so bad. I knew then I had to do something before his words became reality. I knew that the danceline tryouts were in a month so I decided that could be my one chance to be popular. I went on a starvation diet, eating between 5 or 10 grapes only each day. The more weight I lost the more compliments I got. I finally got down to around 125. This was near normal enough for all the kids but I ended up switching schools for the next year so all my efforts were for nothing. That summer I gained back all the weight plus some. My mom began to hassle me about it like never before. Finally one day she just screamed, "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE SKINNY AND POPULAR LIKE I WAS WHEN I WAS IN SCHOOL?! NO ONE WILL EVER WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND!" I never forgave her for it either. That year in school I made friends with a girl who was even more overweight with me so that helped to have a friend who knew how it felt. I finally decided to love my body for what it was. And it seemed that I got more friends after that, (and a boyfriend). My "fat friend" became so jealous of me. She began to fight with me all the time and talk trash about me behind my back. I finally confronted her and she began to cry and say that no one would ever love her. I tried comforting her. I tried to convince her that if a man that really and truly loved her would see past all her faults and just see a beautiful person. I guess I was convincing myself of that as well. And now that I'm older a truly believe it. I'm a size 12 or 14 and I'm completely happy about it!
This is my story... When I was young, I was shy, smart, and fat. Three strikes, and I was out of the social circles. It didn't help that I had skipped two grades - I was as different as different could be. Even though I looked the age of other kids (I've always been very tall), acted the age of other kids, and did all I could to fit in, I never did.
One year, it all changed. What most fat kids don't notice is that there are other fat kids, too. They're just as desperate for companionship and love. I became part of an outside social circle and learned how to socialize with people. It was in some ways a crutch - a way to learn to deal with anyone, by starting with those who were most similar.
The result was that we all ended up with self confidence - something we'd never had before. When that happened, strange things happened. We were accepted into other cliques. We started getting dates (!). We had - by the end of high school - the normal high school experience. We were accepted by all but a few jerks who would find something to insult in anyone.
Today, I'm a successful writer, have lost over 50 pounds, and am continuing to lose weight . Those outcast fat friends of mine became army reservists, fashion designers, and a whole host of other professions.
The reason fat kids often become unsuccessful adults isn't their weight, or even other kids' reaction to it. It's that they never learn to put themselves forward in social situations. I know for a fact that I am not viewed as a "fat girl" by anyone I know even tangentially - in spite of my size 20 body. I don't walk with my head down and I am not ashamed of my weight (though I would still prefer to have less of it!).
The trick is confidence. Without confidence, no one is attractive to others. You have to sell yourself. I became so good at selling myself that now I'm in the advertising world.
If you're in school and are reading these stories, please don't be disheartened. There is so much you can do, so much you can experience if you KEEP YOUR HEAD HIGH. When people call you "fat," thank them. It may sound weird, but when you hold your head high and thank them, they'll be confused, and they'll stop. Insults that have lost their power are no longer used by bullies.
Being fat isn't a hindrance to dating, to love, to friendship, or to career if you know how to conduct and carry yourself - but for many fat people, being marginalized since school makes it so that they're petrified at the thought of putting themselves out there.
If you're in school, take these lessons to heart now. Also, feel free to use this liberally, it served me well in school:
"Yes, I'm fat. I can lose weight. But you'll always be stupid."
This is my story... The whole time i was growing up there was this kid mark, a hefty guy himself, who made fun of me and called me fat and just wouldnt let up. i went through life convinced i was totally fat and it carried over into my adulthood. i was going through my year book a few weeks ago and saw a photo of me then and was like, wait a minute, i wasnt even fat, but he was so vicious and so consistent in his bullying that he convinced me i was fat and through his language convinced me that because i was soooo fat that i wasnt worthy of dating or even being friends with. there is a special place in hell for that guy and anyone of his ilk.
This is my story... My ordeal began in kindergarden. I missed the cut off date for entry, which meant I was forced to start a year late. When I began, I was one, and in some cases two years older than the other kids...and I was FAT. Right from the beginning I was reminded just how different I was than the others, as they would pinch and poke at my belly and arms while calling me fatty and laughing up a storm. There was also this wonderful little gathering called "group weighing," where all the kids would line up to get weighed. Imagine the snickers as I walked up to the scale, which felt more like marching to my death by way of guillotine. Not even 2 hours later, a rumor had spread that I weighed 300 pounds. Things didn't get better as the years progressed, in fact, they got so bad I nearly died. The fifth grade proved to be one of the worst and most traumatic years of my life. My best friend, who was just as unpopular as I was, decided to try out for jr varsity cheerleading. She made it, and happier I could not have been, until of course, I lost her. Although she was a cheerleader she wasn't yet popular because, as the other kids would say, she was friends with "that fat girl." In the end, the pressure proved to be too much and, like so many young kids do, she chose popularity over everything else...including her best friend. Close to the end she actually became the worst of all, simply because she had something to prove. My new name, courtisy of my x best friend, was Moo Moo, which remained with me until I quit school. But we'll get to that part later. During the years that followed I was taunted mercilessly. Even in the winter months I walked home from school to avoid riding the bus with my bullies. One day, however, it was storming; we're talking hail and the whole nine yards. Knowing what awaited me on the bus, I was hesitant to ride but, seeing as how I couldn't walk home with hundreds of golf balls clunking me on the head, I took a deep breath and stepped up onto the bus. Right away a boy started yelling, "Hey! She doesn't belong on this bus! She doesn't live on this rout!" He knew full well I did. He was my next door neighbor. The driver was no help and, despite my lack of a hard hat, I walked home in the hail. Another of my friends was also plump, but not nearly as fat as i was. Her sister was popular, and going over to her house was even worse than school because, in school, there were limits as to what could be done to me. When there were no rules and no chance for reprimand, however, nothing was off limits. I was punched and kicked and mocked, told to sit at the table where, just a few minutes prior, we were all eating, and left there while the others joked around outside and made cracks about what a pig I was. I didn't want to sit there and eat, but they wouldn't let me go with them. Finally, I gave up on friendship all together, refused to eat or go to school, and locked myself in my room where i remained until, one day on the way to the bathroom, I fainted. In less than a year I dropped from 200 pounds to 124. Although that isn't considered a very low weight, it was obtained through starvation and, by the time I reached that point, my body was so malnourished that it just simply stopped functioning. It was at that point that I had an epiphany. Fat bad; skinny good. Just to show how much of an impact eating disorders have on the mind, when I was hospitilized I was more upset that i couldn't hold out another 20 pounds so that, to the doctors, i would be considered underweight, than I was at the fact that I almost died. So what now...? Well, a few years ago I went back to school for my associates in paralegal studies. I'm now 25, working as a paralegal and attending a local university, prelaw, in the evenings. Although I'm doing well in my work and my studies, I can't shake those old feelings of being inferior and, well, somehow less of a person...deserving of torment. No matter how well I do, it's never good enough. I can't shake the feeling that I'm not as smart, not as pretty, and certainly must be insane to even be contemplating law school. The weight I've gained back is quickly coming off and, so far, it hasn't had an impact on my work/school. It's coming, though, the weakness, fatigue, inability to focus...I'd like to say that I don't know why I'm doing this to myself, that if I knew why I'd some how fix it. Unfortunately, I know all to well my reasons for this self inflicted torture. I'm angry...at them, at myself... I need a way to take out that anger, to tell them how much they hurt me. Maybe destroying myself physically is the best way to do that. Funny though, I'll never see them again anyway...yet I can't stop. I need to be the thinnest, food free and pure. When I binge I purge, as if in ridding myself of the food I'm also releasing everything bad and dirty inside of me...and their words. I'm not going to say that it's all their fault. A lot of people get teased; they don't all turn out like this. However, it did play a role in making me how I am today. People tend to blame parents for behavioral problems in children, even adults. Here's the thing, though. Growing up we spend half our lives in school, surrounded by our peers. In actuality, they have a hand in raising us... That said, let this be a lesson to all. Think before you speak. The damage done may be irreparable.
This is my story... Up until the age of 8 I was quite a skinny child but at age 8 developed asthma and had to go onto strong doses of Cortisone. This worked negatively with my diet and I started to bloat and at the age of 10 was taking a size 40 slacks. I remember being teased but had a happy dispostion and covered my sadness very well. I was always immediately overlooked for any type of sport as the teacher would take one look at me and decide that I would not be capable. I therefore retired to indoor activities like choir etc. My folks accepted me for who I was as they loved me unconditionally. Once reaching my teenager years I was desperate for a boyfriend as everyone else seemed to have one. By this stage however I had developed such bad self esteem and became very introverted with the opposite sex. Once reaching high school and entering an all girl environment, together with my mom I set on a decent eating programme and plummeted to a size 34 and to 58 kilo's. My life changed dramatically and my self esteem increased. I will never forget my child hood chubby days and treat every child no matter what size with total respect for their individuality as I am now a school teacher and will never underestimate or place chubby children in a separate category to others.
This is my story... For as long as I can remember, I've always been the fat, ugly one. My best friend, who I've known since I was a baby, was always the skinny, pretty one. She would get the guys, and all the friends. I always wanted to be her. I remember in 3rd grade, we were doing something in class and she came up to me, and i dont know if it was for real or just mockingly, said, "are you 77 lbs like me?" well, i wasnt 77 lbs, i was 130, in 3rd grade...in 4th and 5th grade my nickname was "big chops." i remember being called that by the little boys who thought they were so funny. in junior high it was worse. i wasnt really called any names, but people made me well aware that i was fat. the highest i got to was 210 at 5'5. no one made eye contact with me, no one opened doors for me, and people really werent all that nice. i was although on the basketball team. but i remember once my best friend and one of her friends said something along the lines of "isnt it weird how fat people's short ride up on the inside of their thighs?" in regards to me, and then started imitating it. how humiliating. i remember walking to school everyday scared shitless. riding in the van to school, my heart pounded once we turned onto that street. i hates setting foot there. when i stepped out of the car, who knew what would be said. would someone laugh, would something be wrong with me? in gym, i was always picked last, and if i wasnt, i was scared that i WOULD be picked last. in school, if someone laughed clear across the room, it was at me. i would immediately check myself for something that MIGHT be wrong. to this day this is true. i still feel that people are laughing at me, i still feel that no one likes me, i still feel obesely fat and ugly, even tho everyday i am told how beautiful i am. even though ive lost so much weight that ive had to go into the hospital. even tho people KNOW me for being "the diet queen" or "miss exercise-aholic", even tho ive been asked to model, and ive also been asked IF i do model. i get hit on daily by gross men who think their studs, and i have a boyfriend who i love so much and he loves me also. but none of this "good stuff" matters, because of the pain i was given years ago. u know the saying sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me? bullshit. id rather be beaten bloody and have all my ribs broken than to go through that torment again.
This is my story... It is very tough growing up as a fat child. In elementary school I had a lot of friends my own age, but waz teased by youngr and older kids. I am now 15 6'3 and 225 pounds. I have a lot of friends and dont get teased anymore. One thing is still very difficult, though. I am now a freshman and on my high schools basketball team and even though I am one of the strongest and best on the team, it is still hard to take off my shirt at practices. To all the kids out there, its not your looks but ur personality that makes u popular.
This is my story... I am 13yrs old and weigh 170lbs. i am in 7th grade. i remember a memory that happend in the middle of 6th gr. kids in my class ALWAYS made fun of me but that day i was sick and tired of it. see we had those long science tables that could seat 2 people at it. the kid in front of me was the worst. one day he said to me shut up titanic and so i got very angry and pushed the table into him and he fell on the ground and had a hard time getting up. i was spoken to the next day but all he said was " Now you didn't really want him to get hurt did you?" i lied and said no. from then on he never made fun of me again. MY ADVICE TO FAT KIDS WHO GET TEASED IS DONT LET PEOPLE GET TO YOU AND DO WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE THEM STOP AS LONG AS YOU DONT GET IN TROUBLE all in all i dont get made fun of by schoolmates but sometimes by these 2 girls i am taking care of them though if you know wat i mean! ;)
This is my story... At 23 years old all I remember about my childhood was the fact that I was the "fat girl"....
But now I look back at old pictures and I see that I was never fat at all. I, unfortunately, was forced to move to a wealthy neighborhood when I was in the sixth grade where all of the girls were perfect little sixty pound wisps (and were made that way by their anorexic country club mothers, I imagine) and the fact that I weighed over 100 pounds was enough for me to get so psychologically tortured that I thought about suicide and I thought about it often.
After an especially bad day I would come home and write in my journal, "If I don't weigh 75 pounds by May I'll kill myself." And I meant it. But thankfully, I never did it.
The worst instigator of my torture was a girl named Annie. Annie was this cute little blonde with a rich daddy who always had the latest clothes, and if you were friends with Annie you were IT. She and her friends decided that I was going to be their target and they made the next three years of my life hell. Even kids who wanted to be my friend at first would torture me because if you were seen being nice to me you were officially added to their list of people to torment too.
Man, if I could go back in time and relive that knowing what I know now...
But let me tell you, after what I saw a few months ago I am a true believer in karma.
As an adult, I'm not a "skinny" person but I'm a very fit 5'4", 145 pounds. I also have a great job, own my own home, have wonderful friends and a fantastic life. Not long ago I was driving through my old town where my middle school torture took place and I went into a gas station to fuel up and get a bottled water. I knew there was something familiar about the girl at the counter, but it didn't hit me until I looked down at her nametag. "ANNIE"
When I looked into her eyes, I knew this was the same Annie who had been such a "goddess" at school, and now she was an unkempt, probably 300 pounds plus woman who was missing a few teeth. I can't tell you how much I wanted to say something to see if she'd remember me, but I didn't and just walked away.
This is my story... I was in the third grade when I recall being tormented for being overweight. Its acually very sad, alot of my childhood is blocked out of my own memory, I'm left with little images of indiviual events. Your general name calling, getting mildly pushed around (if one of the other kids was willing to risk getting "fat cooties") I had one friend in the 4th grade, untill she asked me not to tell anyone she was my friend, some friend. Nobody ever stuck up for me. I remember dreading reses and spending it alone in some random corner where I hoped to be left alone. Once a week our class ran an obstacal course with was positivly humiliating. The teacher seemed to stand there with some sick enjoyment as I struggled. I never finished it, or came close, it was physicaly impossible for a child of my size. I was forced to try anyway dispite my pleading. I did alot of school switching, some places were better then others, but I never had any friends. Other then the one friend at home who I had grown up with. (we are still friends today)In Jr. High things got incredibly worse. P.E. was introduced and I was forced to change in the locker room, where food was throw at me, my things were stolen from my locker, one time some girls waited till I was back in my street clouthes and dragged me into the showers, I had to spend the rest of the day all wet, and hurting. Once out there things did not improve (duh.) P.E. was basicly, run laps... I was triped, had rocks thrown at me, had my bra snapped, hair pulled, you name it. At lunchtime, when I wasn't getting my ass kicked, I would pretend to be sleeping, hopeing to be left alone. The school counsler set me up with the "friends" with whom I was supposed to have lunch with, but they to, made fun of me. By this time my mom had gotten involed in trying to do somthing about it for natualy I was refusing to go to school every morning. (I have been since 3rd grade) Plus, I was failing all my classes. After many meetings, the school decided to do nothing. So I went into home school. Went I went to high school, things got alittle better. I made a good friend who I shared a few classes with by coinidence. She was about my size (about a 16) but much stronger then I was, tough. While was always simply getting beaten up, she acted as somewhat of a security to me, people stopped messing with me for the most part because we stuck together. By my junior year I had earned the respect of most of my classmates simply by not allowing myself to be a victim. I joined clubs and got involed with drama. I also was very suicidle... But I had friends to turn to and I worked through it. Sure, there were still times when some ignorant person would trip me in the hall or call me names, but now I know it's their loss. I still get depressed sometimes, I still feel ugly sometimes, and I still sometimes want to kill myself... But as long as I know I have people who love me regardless of my appearance, I know I'll work through it... I just started collage last spring, and I know its uphill from here.
This is my story... I am a 15 year old girl who has had to deal with a lot in my life so far. The thing that has hurt me the worst was the cruleness of my peers and people younger than me. They are crule because they get it from t.v. and other places. My story begins here. I wake up every morning to go to school. I get to the bus stop, and thats when the taunting begins. By the time I get on to the bus my spirts have been broken down. The bus ride is worst than the bus stop. Then when I arrive at school it gets even worse. People who don't even know me are calling me tubby, or fat. All I can think to myself is "why do they say these things to me they don't even know me?" I keep telling myself that I'm not, and that I am perfect. By the time I leave school I am telling myself that I am fat and I am not perfect.
This is my story... Hello my name is Teresa I know the termoil that some of us went though as children. I am 28 years old and weigh 320 pounds when I was a small child I was a normal weight. I started gaining weight when I was around age 7 or 8. I alway had problems with other kids picking on me my sister would always have to interfere and tell other kids to leave me alone so I was never really able to stand up for myself. I was always afraid to get involved in the play days or the track and field day events due to being a big kind and always worrying is anyone watching me cause I didnt like getting made fun of. I was made fun of as a kid and I believe to this day that my weight as a child and my weight as an adult has held me back in this world out in the job force and in public as well. I still get remarks to this day from teenagers and children who call me fat or lard Ass things like that then it just makes me feel like crawling into a ball and wishing I were at home where I can be away from the remarks and the stares. Anyway just wanted to vent how I feel. I love to meet people and would love to meet more people but being the way I am its hard to meet people and be the popular person.
This is my story... During my early childhood, I was a very skinny little girl. I remember my mother always having to force me to eat. The reason I never ate much was because I had other things on my mind, like riding my bicycle, playing with my doll, coloring, etc. However, as I got older, I started enjoying food more and more. I found myself having a big appetite and when it was time to eat, I was always holding my plate out, ready to be served. My mother is an excellent cook and she always made delicious food. She made dinner six days a week and on Friday's, we would all go out to eat. Friday's were the days I ate wing dings and french fries and pizza. But I never over ate. I had three meals a day and snacks in between, just like any normal person. I will admit, I loved junk food and lots of times, I would be chowing down on a chocolate bar, or cake, or ice cream, but I was just a little kid! Being young is about eating lots of junk food. I never had a problem with my weight or others teasing me until I entered the fifth grade. We all had to go to the nurse's office to get weighed. So, I sauntered into her office and stepped on the scale. And when I looked at the numbers that showed up, I nearly died. I was 10 years old and 98 pounds at a height of 4'11. This discovery triggered a thought inside of my mind... a thought that would torture me for years to come: I was fat! I went around to all of the other girls and asked them their weights. They all weighed atleast 15 pounds less than me. I compared myself to them and felt like they were much better than me. Up until that point, I was an ordinary child who loved life. However, I suddenly developed this deep hatred for myself. I spent the rest of the year going around and complaining about my weight. I would constantly say, "I'm so fat!" and the other kids would assure me that I wasn't, but I didn't believe them. I figured that they were just trying to be nice. Sixth grade was more of the same. I complained some more, compared myself to all the "thin" girls, and hated myself even more. By the time seventh grade rolled around, I had absolutely no self esteem. I stopped complaining about my weight. Instead, I just kept quiet about it. That was the year that I noticed how the other kids would point and laugh and whisper things about me. They would treat me badly and be very cruel to me. I was, in their eyes, a social outcast. I only had a few friends. I began hating school and everyone there. In January of 2000, things took a turn for the worse. I remember eating spaghetti one night with my family. A few hours later, I decided to have another bowl of it. My dad commented that I was being a "pig". I was very hurt by his ignorance and that is when a light flicked on in my head; I decided to do something about it. Quietly, I walked up the stairs and into the bathroom. I knelt down in front of the toilet and stuck my finger down my throat. I gagged, but nothing came up. So I did it again, except harder and faster. I gagged and felt something coming up. So, I rammed my finger down my throat and my spaghetti came back up and flew into the water. I continued to do this until I had thrown up all of the spaghetti. I started inducing vomiting on myself and it became a frequent habit. By the time March came around, I had officially become bulimic. I was ruining my body, but I didn't care. I became obsessed with throwing my food up so that I could be thin and look just like a supermodel. I never lost any weight, though. If anything, I gained. Nobody knew about my eating disorder until my sister caught me throwing up one day. She kept it a secret for a while, but ended up telling my mother. My parents discussed it and decided that they were going to have me put in the hospital. I got very scared and decided to stop making myself throw up. I managed to quit, but it was extremely difficult. When I started eigth grade, my life became a hell. All the kids teased me. I was sexually harassed by a boy who would pretend to like me just as a joke. Another boy would come up to me in the halls and say, "Move it, fatty!". My parents weren't exactly caring. My dad called me a blimp and once, when we went out to eat, I ordered some chicken. My dad said, "You had better watch what you eat because you'll get big." I rolled my eyes and said, "I don't care what you say! When I am older, I will be a famous actress and I will be on the front cover of TV Guide." My dad laughed and said, "Yeah, they'll need two magazines to fit YOU on the cover!" My mom, sister and brother all laughed at this. I shrugged my shoulders and pretended like I didn't care, but I really did. Eigth grade went on and it got even worse. When the year ended, I decided to spend my summer locked away in the house. I just wanted to be left alone. A few weeks before I began high school, my mom told me that I was fat and that if I didn't lose weight, the kids at school would tease me. I ignored her. Well, when my freshman year of high school started, I went feeling kind of confident. I had a few friends and enjoyed my classes. However, my new feeling of confidence was shattered within a few months. One day in Algebra, this boy who was a major drug addict, yelled, "Hey, Mackenzie!" I turned around and saw him extending his arms outward and puffing his cheeks up. The entire room burst out in laughter. I honestly did not understand what he was doing. I just laughed and turned back around. Well, when the bell rang, my friend came up to me and said, "You know, that boy was teasing you. He was saying that you are fat and ugly and everyone was laughing." I suddenly felt very crushed and spent the rest of the day quiet and withdrawn. I convinced myself that tomorrow would be alright, but I was so wrong. Everyday in Algebra, that boy would yell stuff at me and tease me and everyone in the room laughed! Nobody stuck up for me, which really hurt. Some of the kids even joined in and poked fun at me, too. I felt like I was on my own. I remember one day, the boy shouted, "Look it's Godzilla! Oh no wait, that's Mackenzie." He came up to me one day in study hall and said, "BLIMP!". He would talk about me to other people and said that I looked like a whale. We had to do square dancing in gym and, of course, I got stuck in his group. He begged the teacher to let him switch to another group, but the teacher said no. I had to dance with this really short guy from and the mean guy told the short guy, "Hey, you better watch out! Mackenzie might rip you right out of those little pants of your's with all of her blubber." I just ignored him and did what I was supposed to. I thought that maybe he would leave me alone but I was wrong. He told my friend, "I had to dance with Mackenzie in gym today. I fucking hate that fat piece of shit!" I was very hurt by this, and I continued to endure his painful emotional abuse. I didn't even fight back because I really couldn't say anything. I was a fat girl, and I had nothing and no one to defend me. So I just took it and I let him step all over me and break me. I would go home everyday and cry my eyes out. Luckily, he got kicked out of school by the time Christmas rolled around, and I felt safe. Of course, there were others who followed in his footsteps and teased me. By the time my freshman year had ended, I was so extremely depressed and I was full of so much self-hatred. I spent my summer hiding away in my house. A few weeks before school started, I found myself terrified. I didn't want to go back to that place. I cried and cried and cried. Then, it was time for me to begin my sophomore year. I went to my first class, Geometry, and guess who was in it? None other than the ignorant boy who teased me my freshman year! They let him back in school. And, as the day progressed, I learned that this boy was in most of my classes. I knew the year was going to be awful. But so far, he hasn't said anything remotely mean to me. But I know he will. Even though he isn't teasing me, there still are other people who tease me. I recently got into a fight with my former best friend and she said, "You're a bitch! Lose some weight," and walked away. Then, when my best friend heard about this, she went after the girl. She threw spit balls in the girl's hair. The girl turned around and said, "Just because I'm not friends with fat ass Mackenzie doesn't mean you have to be rude to me!" Well, my best friend said, "You just wait, the next time I see you outside of school, I am going to beat your ass!" My best friend is the only one of my friends that actually stuck up for me. All of my other so-called "friends" just listened to that girl insult me and they didn't do a damn thing about it. They didn't even defend me! It took this incident to make me realize who my true friends really are. I now only have one best friend, but she is amazing and I love her like a sister. She watches my back and I watch her's. Well, this girl called me later that night and poured out apology after apology. I forgave her, as I don't like bearing grudges, but I told her that I would never forget how cruel she was to me. She and I haven't spoken since then. Well, a few weeks ago, I got into a fight with another one of my "friends". She blamed me for spreading a rumor about her, which isn't true at all. She was also saying mean things about my best friend. So, my best friend told her to leave us both alone. My best friend also told this girl, "I think you're too fat for your clothes and you look orange because you tan too much!" Well, this girl said, "I'm not fat! Look at Mackenzie, she is twice the size of me." Ouch! I didn't do anything about it, though. I just decided to let it go. To make matters worse, all of the people who were supposed to be my friends have become best friends with this girl and they don't even care about the mean stuff she said to me. But whatever. And, oh yeah, the other day at lunch, I decided to go to my locker. Well, I was standing there, putting my books away, when I heard some stuff being shouted behind me. I didn't pay any attention to it because I thought I was just being paranoid. However, when I turned around, I saw a table full of guys looking at me and laughing, and one of the guys was yelling, "MOO!". I just gave them a really mean look and walked back to my table. I didn't even bother telling anyone about this, either. It's just too embarassing. I don't know why those boys did that to me. I never even did anything to them! Also, my older sister is absolutely beautiful. She is tall, thin, pretty, athetic and one of the most popular girls in her grade. She has all of these boys chasing after her. Kids from my grade who don't like me are friends with my sister. It's awful. One girl called me fat and ugly and said that I would be much prettier if I looked like my sister. Another saw me at a football game and said, "Whoa! That can't be ------'s sister because she is so fat!" My nephews have even called me fat. My four year old nephew once told me that I was too fat to wear a bathing suit. Let me tell you, that hurts. I no longer talk to people. I just walk through the halls in school with my head down. I keep to myself. I feel so out of place at school. I have withdrawn deep into myself and am pretty depressed. I hate school and I hate life. I doubt that things will ever change for me. At the moment, I am 5'4 and 168 pounds and a size 13. That is really disgusting, isn't it? Oh well. Things are never going to change.
This is my story... I never realized I was "fat" until attending kindegarten in Clinton Massachusetts when I was dancing in front of the entire grammar school in a christmas production of the nutcracker. The front button on my courduroy pants had broken open and my protruding belly was exposed to the entire audience. From that point on I was ridiculed incessantly by everyone in school. To this day whenever I even hear the soundtrack to the nutcraker I well up with tears. I am 30 years old and studying to be a lawyer. Even today as I try to become a lawyer I am tormented by comments from other students. (I made the mistake of removing my shirt at a couple of law school outings.)
It is hard to believe adults would act this way! I really find flaws in a society such as ours that has such an emphasis on physical attributes, and my goal as a lawyer will be to try and reverse some of these injustices.
This is my story... If you're a fat boy and you hate gym class, I know what you're going through. I'm 15 and it's the worst thing about school right now. My weight has always been a problem, but I realize that I'm really getting fat. I weigh about 260. It doesn't really bother me all the time, except for when it draws peoples attention to me. Like in gym class, or more specifically in the locker room. I hate when I have to change or shower there, because I know what always ends up happening. Everybody points at me and makes rude remarks or jestures. There's one boy who always tries to slap me or hit my backside or pat my belly in the open shower because "it makes such a great sound". Its totally humiliating. I'm not the only fat kid in the group - there is one guy whos like 14 and just HUGE - hes so fat his belly hangs over to his hips, and he has to wear like sweat pants over it all but you can still see the fat. He also gets teased a lot -it must be bad being that fat. I just wish people would leave me alone. If this sounds like what you go through at school, just know there are lots of us fat guys in the same boat.
This is my story... Still in school, the times are not that bad and so I guess I'm lucky.
In the early elementary school years, I was skinny. No one thought I would end up fat. Later in elementary school, the health teacher weighed us and I turned out to be at a weight that was not over weight, but it wouldn't hurt if I lost about 3 pounds. Later on, in the Middle School my weight dramatically increased. I was starting to like all the foods that were bad for me, and hating the foods that were good for me.
Luckily, some of my friends are also over weight, but they do not get teased. One of them is actually very secessful with boys, still overweight, but she has the greatest luck with all the new fashions and many boys are drawn to her beauty and sense of humor. The boys do not care aobut her weight. I wish I could say the same for me. I way about 15 pounds more then my friend does, and that of course makes a big difference. I can't ever recall someone calling me a horrid name in my face, but on the bus I've heard whispers behind my back.
I am not however the fattest child in my grade. The ones who are more fatter than I are very much teased.
My friends never tell me to loose weight, but I know they'd wish I wasn't so fat. I can remember a remark my friend said earlier this year, on a bus to a school trip. We sat in the back of the bus, and it was me, my friend, and a person who is very much liek a good friend to me. We sat in the back and naturally I had to sit on the outside. However the seat was very tired and my friend was not comfortable. She begged that I switch seats with another one of my friends, but I refused. She then began to compare me to another of my friends who happens to be much much more skinnier then I. Though I'm sure she didn't intend to hurt my feelings, my friend said I was a tree compared to my friend she called a stick. And she called me a big marble, and my friend a small marble. Now that hurt my feelings, because she was insulting how big I was compared to my friends.
I can only hope to loose weight as my doctor has told me I am in fact overweight and I am in need of much more excercise. I wish I had continued to take soccer like I had in elementary school, and if I had I wouldn't probably way as much as I do now.
I hate school gym, and though required it is a nightmare for me. I hate to run and I always fail the mile run my school has.
Of course my friends brag about how they make or almost make all psychical phitness tests that are held, when I can only say I beat less then half. I only beat the very easy ones and I can't really say I beat them, I make it on the number that is the limit to suceed.
I'm ashamed of that and I hope I can find some way to become more active. I do not want to enter highschool still being fat.
This is my story... I am 13 years old and i weight 164lbs. You might not think its that big but to me i am huge. I am made fun of all the time. All of the guys in my class call me fatty and hippo behind my back. My friends (tring to help) tell me what they are saying, but it only makes me feel worse. I have been tring to lose weight for along time now but nothing happens. I wonder if i will be big all my life. And the worst part of all is that every one in my class is thiner than me!!! I hate being big!!!!!
This is my story... As I look over some of the other stories on this web site, so many experiences ring true to my own childhood. Like every other chubby kid out there, I was made fun of, teased by family and peers alike, made to feel inferior and was plagued with self-disgust and the belief that I somehow "deserved" this treatment because of my weight. However,looking back on these experiences as an adult, I can clearly see God's hand in the person it has shaped me to be: Having been the butt of cruel jokes, I'll NEVER inflict that pain on another human being. Having seen that my tormenters learned their jobs so well from their parents (and yes, that's exactly where they learned it), I'll NEVER allow my children to think it's okay to say hurtful things "all in good fun", because it's not fun for at least one person involved. When I got to high school I was a fairly popular person, having learned that fat chicks have to be funny to be accepted, and then allowing the sense of humor that had been hiding under my pudge to show. This may have gotten me invited to all the social events, and made me friends with quite a few of my peers, but it still didn't attract any of the 17 yr. old boys. Looking back now, that was a blessing in disguise also. Too many of my "pretty" classmates were making June wedding arrangments for themselves and the captain of the football team, pushing strollers down the graduation isle, or had no plans at all (thinking they could contiue to get by on their pretty faces). I didn't end up in any of these categories, thanks to my chub, and I'm eternally grateful. I'm now mature enough to know what love looks like, and know the difference between love and infatuation. I know the kind of impact my decisions will make on my life, and am responsible enough to make the correct ones. I didn't get myself in over my head at a young age, and was able to wait to make adult decisions until I was an adult. Sure, there was a lot of pain in my childhood because of my fat. However, there's a lot of temperance, patience, empathy, freedom and happiness in my adult life because of that same fat. It's all in how you look at it. Happiness is a decision, no matter what your size.
This is my story... I'm a 12-year old boy who weighs 178 pounds.I've always been fat,but this year is the first year I've experienced very painful teasing.A couple jerks on the bus home from school decided to call me every cruel name they could think of,and say nasty,hurtful things like "How about you go home and eat all the twinkies you want and hopefully you'll die from some 'fat disease'"We have assighned seats,and I sat next to my popular crush.To add to the embarrasment,she started laughing too and cracking jokes.I felt like crying,but that would just give them a whole new reason to make fun of me.I'm gonna start trying to lose weight,doubting that it will work.
This is my story... They spit on me. They kicked me. They threw food at me and called me "lard ass." They followed me home, their snickers and taunts trailing me from behind until the slam of my front door shut them out. They hissed in my ear about how i should go on a diet and then, when i finally did, they teased me about that, too. "Look, fat ass is on a diet. ha ha ha fat ass."
i wanted to disappear, so i did. It was no longer about looking good, because even in my unhealthy state of mind, i never thought i looked good as a skeleton. It was simply about becoming invisible so that no one could see me. Now that i'm invisible, all i want is to be heard; heard but not seen. Sticks and stones, right? i can guarantee, though, words hurt more. My physical scars have healed. Their shoe prints and spit no longer adorn my body as a badge of dishonor. And yet, it's their words that have followed me into adultood, tieing knots in my stomache and forcing up every bit of food that enters. With each purge, i flush their words down the toilet, along with a half digested chocolate malt tinted with crimson red, a bloody reminder of my past, acting as a contrast to my sickly pale skin. As a child, Mia (bulimia) was my only friend. i never thought my friend would, or could, kill me. At this point i no longer care. All i want is to get this message across to everyone who is willing to listen (read) and even those who aren't. Be careful what you say. Words can kill.
This is my story... I was a fat kid, starting from about 7th Grade on. In High School, I absolutely was horrified at gym class, having to shower with everyone. One time during the rope climb exercise, I was taunted by the jocks in my class and told that I could not get my fat butt up the rope. I was in a rage and went up that rope as fast or faster than any of them. The problem was coming down, as I could not get a good grip on the rope and burned my hands quite badly.
As an adult, I have been in shape for about 25% of the time, 75% "fat" I notice that when I lose weight, I have friends and aquaintances say things like "you were really huge" and even hurtful comments that were obviously kept inside of them when I was bigger. Also, some would comment when they saw a fat person in a negative way, which is something they did not do when I was bigger. Being fat sucks in many ways, but I know that it has given me a balance when I trend toward being judgemental toward others.
This is my story... I look at these memories and both see myself and cannot relate at all at the same time. I wasn't really born overweight nor did a disability hurt my ability to exercise. From what I can tell, I started gaining weight after my parents split up and my grandmother came to live with us. For the few years, I was fine until 4th grade or so when I noticed that not only was I was the tallest girl in the grade, but I was also gaining weight (I remember girls on the track team asking me how much I weighed and the number was 136. They looked traumatized) . (Note that it wasn't all together my fault. My father and grandmother both come from a Southern family where food is a big thing and I had a strange fondness for bologna sandwiches every single day after school). It didn't help my position in school that I've always been a bit of a weirdo. One of my good friends is what one would have considered "trailer trash," but we supported each other. I have always had the feeling of being left out, which to this day, follows me. Several times over the summer, people I had never met before tortured me. I've had my back used as a springboard in swimming pool (might I add, when I was underwater), had chili peppers shoved down my throat and dirt thrown at me. All because I was fat? Could be....
Hell raised into the Earth when middle school rolled around. I was always kind of awkard - I still am in a lot of ways. In sixth grade, I became very self-conscious mainly because of a girl named Sara. Sara was a girl smaller than me only in height. Weight-wise, she was also what one might call "chubby," but Sara seemed to have a better time fitting in because her parents had bigger bank accounts, she had "cooler" clothes, and she was also a bit manipulative. Sara was one of those friends that I seemed to attract a lot during middle school - the kind that would extort money from you, and, when no one else would hang out with them, hang out with you and insult you. She became convinced I owed her money and flipped me off everyday when she got off the bus. It got to point where she came over to my house, told my father that I owed her money and had him write a check for it. (A couple days later, her mom dragged her back over to give the check back. She claimed "My mom felt sorry for your dad.") She also helped start the torture on the bus. I developed much earlier than everyone else - my breasts also were quite large for a sixth grader, though they now are what many guys call "perfect." She got the guys started on calling me Pamela Anderson Lee (this followed me also through middle school) and saying I had footballs under my shirt. She also instilled in me much of the inner critizism and fear that I can still hear inside my own head. "You'll never get a boyfriend." "No one will ever love you!" and, of course, many people also told me to leave my choir class (my favorite class, even today) and transfer to another school. That year was the first time I also became depressed for the first time. That has also lasted to this day. In seventh grade, I was seriously considering suicide. Everyone was telling me I wasn't worth anything living, so why bear the pain anyway? My gym clothes had been stolen and many of my "friends" betrayed me.
Something stopped me though and later that year, I met my first boyfriend, who is still a good friend today. He was a mainly on-line boyfriend, but when I told him I was overweight, he told me I was wonderful because I was "cuddly." That is one of the greatest compliments I've ever recieved. Eigth grade was much better. I restored my faith in God and had true friends for the most part. My self-esteem was still pretty low, but I had enough courage to apply (and get into!) an Art school for vocal music. But I never got to attend because the summer before my freshman year of high school, i was diagnosed with bone cancer when visting my mom in California. I suffered for a year, but survived with all limbs intact. I started writing more (I had started writing seriously when I was 12, but didn't start showing others until 8th) and am now an accomplished songwriter/poet. When I returned to a regular high school (the art school couldn't take me when I couldn't attend) to most of the people I've grown up with, things were quite a bit different. I wasn't as concerned about clothes as I was (I was never into fashion) and I found music helped save my sanity. I also started to be apathetic about other's comments, particularly about my weight (althouhg I lost most of my weight when going through chemotherapy, I gained a lot back) I'm 17 now and am attending both high school and the local comminuty college. I am still somewhat overweight (at 32% fat, but 123 lbs of LBM), but the only negative comment I've recieved about my weight has been from an ex-boyfriend, who was emotionally abusive anyway, thus making his comment null and void. In fact, of the many guys I know at the moment, none of them will even let me call myself fat. A good friend, who I once dated and is training to be a personal trainer has commented that I am probably more healthy than most people. But, I try not to go on what others say. That's kind of what started this all in the first place. You shouldn't let a scale mesaure your worth. You should be healthy and happy - not what everyone tells you to be. Cool clothes are not gonna change your life, only you can do that. Stand up and be proud! Weirdos of the universe unite!
This is my story... To me school didn't mean education or support. It didn't mean opportunity or growth. It meant torture and ridicule, harassment and humiliation. It meant getting up everyday and facing the worse sort of death. The death of my self worth and happiness. The even slower death of my dreams and aspirations. I started gaining weight in the third grade. By the forth grade I was very heavy. That is the year I refer to as the demolition of my self esteem foundation. I don't remember the first time somebody called me fat. I just remember a hurricane of torment coming out of nowhere and knocking me to the ground. To the ground, where I’ve been ever since.
I came to school one day, having been absent the previous day, and learned that we had a substitute teacher when I was sick and everyone got their preferred names or nicknames written in thick black permanent markers on name tags taped to their desks. When I went over to my desk I saw to my horror the words "BACON GREASE" plastered across it. Then I looked up and slowly realized the other children were standing around watching me. They had been waiting for me to see it, holding in their laughter. I asked the girl sitting next to me “Anne” why this name was here. She said the class had picked it for me in my absence because that‘s the name I answer to. She said the substitute teacher thought it was funny. I was humiliated. I didn't know what to say or how to react. I felt my ears burning and I sat down. I was too embarrassed to tell our teacher, I didn't want them to think they had gotten to me. And so ensued the cycle that would be my demise. Their cruel pranks, and my best attempt at nonchalant ness. I refused to let them see me cry.
I came in from recess a few weeks later and discovered my spelling work book had disappeared from inside my desk. The next day I came to school and my workbook had mysteriously materialized back into my desk. I opened up the book and saw what they had done. They had taken a fat magic marker and wrote the words "FAT" on the front page, then I turned to the next page and it said "UGLY" and the next page said "FAT" and the next again "UGLY" they had ruined my entire spelling book from the first page to last. The words were written so big they covered each entire page. I was breathless and again slowly noticed the children all looking over at me waiting for my reaction. I slowly closed my desk and deposited my spelling book in the garbage on the way out for recess. I cried alone on the playground. Away from prying eyes and snickers. I started to think that something must be wrong with me. None of the other children were being treated this way. Somehow, I knew it must be my fault.
Days and weeks passed, the teasing was horrible on some days and less horrible on others. Christmas was fast approaching and I finally felt I had something to look forward to. The class Christmas party was fast approaching and we were participating in a "random" gift exchange. You bring presents for girls or boys or either. Then a girl and a boy the teacher picked got to "randomly" hand them out. "Anne" was chosen as usual, and a popular boy "Robbie". They were whispering and laughing in the back of the room. Each gift was handed out and I “happened” to be the last person to receive one. Finally Anne dropped the package on my desk , smiled down at me and said “Merry Christmas”. I thought she was being nice and sincere. She made me feel like a million dollars when she talked to me like a normal girl. I opened the present and saw a huge molded 10lb chocolate Garfield statue. With the words "Eat Up Fat-Ass!" written across the top of the box. I looked around and again realized everyone was looking and waiting. Finally when they could contain their laughter no longer, they let it out. It was loud and it seemed to echo for a thousand years. My teacher was clueless. I stuffed the chocolate into my bag and fought back the tears like I had done so many times before. I was getting angry at myself for being so weak. For being so fat. I was angry at myself for not standing up to them, but at the same time I felt deep down I deserved their torture. It was my fault I was fat.
January passed slowly and I became more withdrawn and sad. I came into class after recess one afternoon and noticed our teacher was not yet there. The other were kids were standing around talking, nothing seemed unusual. I went down to sit at my desk, then it happened. I sat down and the chair fell off the desk and the desk itself toppled over. I fell backwards and felt shooting pains down my back. The entire class was roaring with laughter shouting taunts of " you're so fat you broke the desk!" and "have you ever seen someone so fat that metal couldn't even hold them?" When I noticed none of my books where inside the desk I realized what they had done. I had sat down in the broken desk had been sitting in the back of the classroom collecting dust for week and a group of 10 year-old children decided it was the formula for the perfect prank. My desk was in the very last row at the back of the room making switching easy and unnoticeable. They had put my name tag on it and carefully placed it where my normal desk was. You know those moments in life where time passes slowly, and every second ticks on for eternity? This was one of those moments. I felt like I was outside myself watching someone else lying there in humiliation. And for the first time, I let them see me cry.
I went home that day in despair and my mother consoled me. She never told me to ignore them. She told me to stand up for myself, she told me to not let them control how I feel. Easy words to say, but for a fat 10 year old girl, impossible words to comprehend, but I was determined to try.
It became apparent that my teacher had trouble getting back to the classroom most days after recess and lunch. I began dreading those few minutes without his supervision. I walked in on one of those days with my head held high. Trying to put on a brave face though I knew they had been planning something all day. I walked in and the whole class minus maybe five kids were standing in a group. They all yelled at me and said " Hey Karen! J-E-L-L-O!" As they chanted the familiar jingle at me they all threw their arms in the air and began shaking their bodies uncontrollably. Then the familiar laughter and insults followed. I crumpled up into a ball in my mind and pretended I was someone else, anyone else. I hated them with every inch of my being and at the same time, I fantasized about them being my best friends. I just wanted them to stop, I wanted it all to stop, so I decided to take my mother’s advice and stand up for myself. I told my teacher about the cruel pranks and begged him to make them stop. His response was remarkable. “Well, kids will be kids, I will talk to them about the teasing but you really should learn to get along better with others.”
He didn’t even punish my classmates, he merely gave them a "treat others how you would want to be treated" speech. The next day at lunch I was outside on the playground I went to the farthest corner of the fence to eat. Suddenly I was being grabbed and pushed by several students. Seven of my classmates grabbed me from behind and pushed me up to the corner of the fence. I then watched in disbelief as they pulled out jump ropes and glared at me with looks of utter and complete contempt on their faces. Three older boys held me down and the girls, led by Anne, tied me to the fence while five others stood around me so the playground supervisors couldn't see. Anne then spat in my face and told me to keep my big fat mouth shut. She took my lunch apart piece by piece sticking it in my pockets, smashing it into my hair and rubbing all over my clothes. I was scared, I started sobbing and screaming but nobody noticed. The bell finally rang and the kids ran for the door, leaving me tied up, covered in food, spit, and dirt. One of the supervisors finally saw heard me screaming and ran up to untie me. She and the principal demanded to know who had done this to me but I refused to tell. I was afraid and ashamed, I felt I had brought it on myself, and I felt, even at the age of ten, that from that day on I was never going to be normal, I would always be different, engaging in a constant battle with myself and the world around me.
I have a million humiliating moments imprinted on my soul. Things teachers and other kids parents said, junior high, high school. The torment never stopped and these moments slowly took on a life of their own creating another victim of poor self image and fear of rejection. When people tell you something enough times, even if you don't want to, you begin to believe it. That’s when being fat becomes being worthless. My weight is the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night. It has consumed every inch of my soul, every breath of my spirit. I’m twenty two years old and I've never even been kissed. I return men's advances with a cold shoulder or a joke about myself because that is how I learned to cope with life. I had to make them laugh with me before they could laugh at me. At least that way I’m in control. If the opportunity arises to degrade myself for a cheap laugh I take it, time and time again. I laugh at myself all day long, but when I go home at night and look in the mirror I know there‘s nothing to laugh about. I feel like a mutant, like a freak, like a human defect that will never be “good enough“ or “normal“. To put it simply, I am damaged goods. The damage wasn’t to my body where scrapes heal and blood dries up, it was to my heart, where wounds run deep and scars don't fade. Suddenly one day I woke up and realized I had become a shadow of my former self. I have built up walls of bitterness and isolation around me and the worst part is, I feel like it’s the only way I can spare my heart of anymore pain.
I know those years will always be with me, haunting me, lying dormant below the surface threatening to erupt at any moment in a sea of emptiness and verbal poison, but I have to remember, I can’t change who I was, without changing who I have become. I think my experiences being a fat kid and an obese adult have taught me to how deceiving appearances can be. I know who my true friends are, and I know deep down inside that someday I will break free from the mental prisons I have put myself in. I just have to believe I deserve it.
This is my story... I got fat when I started to develop, at 9 years old, and have been fat ever since. (I was a C-cup in fourth grade, and what I went through being the only girl in grade school to wear a bra is a whole story in itself.)
I was already a socially backward child, and becoming fat solidified my outcast position. It gave the creeps an obvious thing to target -- and, more critically, it gave the adults an excuse not to intervene. When I was just a strange child, an adult would occasionally step in to protect me from the sharks. Once I was fat, that stopped. After all, if I would just lose the weight, nobody would make fun of me, right?
But in junior high, this backward fat chick went out for drama -- and I am astonished, in retrospect, that I had the courage. And we did a play that called for a narrator. The teacher said it could be either a boy or a girl, so I tried out. And did it well -- well enough that even the people in class who regularly harassed me me were temporarily silenced, and one or two were even complimentary.
Well, a day later the teacher showed me how long the part was and asked if I was sure I could learn it. I said I was, and I was really excited, sure that meant I'd be getting the part.
And when the teacher cast the play, he gave the role to a good-looking boy who hadn't auditioned nearly as well and, with a sneering "Sorry, Bridey," cast me as a "townswoman" with no lines. The boy who got the part actually apologized to me.
Of course, the teacher was trying to scare me off by showing me how long the part was. Seems that when he said a girl could get the part, he didn't mean a fat girl.
And that was the first thing I wanted, and earned, that I didn't get just because I was fat. Not the last, of course, and far from the most important. But it was, as far as I can recall, the first.
This is my story... When I was 11, my grandmother (the grand dame of the family) made the decision to transfer me from my urban elementary school to a slightly less urban "middle school academy", complete with corporate talk of "academic excellence" and mandatory uniforms for all students.
I was already well over 150 pounds (and about 5'1) at that time, and consequently unable to fit into child-sized clothing anymore. My grandmother was the kind of person who believed that there was such a thing as "the largest possible size", and if you couldn't fit into this arbitrary size (16 or 18), you had to force it. You had to squeeze yourself into these tiny clothes because otherwise, you'll have to start ordering out of SPECIAL catalogs or shopping at the most shameful place in existence, LANE BRYANT.
Of course, I believed all her fatphobic propaganda.
She drove me to a little family owned uniform shop and I was told that the largest size of the uniform pieces I needed were a child's size 18. The pants were so tight and stiff that I had to lie down to get them on in the dressing room, but I lied to my grandma and told her they fit fine because I was too ashamed to tell her the truth. As far as I was concerned, the size 18s were my only option.
I wore the pants and the shirts (which fit slightly better, because they were stretchy) to school for about a month, until the day I bent over and the inner thigh seams on both legs split.
I panicked and knew there was no way I could replace them, so I resorted to putting on a pair of similarly colored shorts under the ripped pants, thinking no one would notice.
Much to my dismay, that day was gym class, which involved sitting on the floor and doing calisthenics. I tried to keep my hands in my lap as much as I could, but there was only so much I could do and of course, everyone noticed.
"Your pants are ripped!"
"Why don't you buy some pants that fit?!"
All I could do was try not to cry and say "I know. I should." Try to laugh it off, like I had plenty more pants at home.
This is my story... Junior high was hell for me. Not only was I going through a rough time at home (parents divorcing, constant moving and shuffling around, etc.) but I was being constantly harassed at school. I was already self concious and felt bad about my weight but EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. at school I was reminded of my "fatness" and teased about it.
One of the harshest memories is being "mooooed" at in the hall as I would walk down. It would come from everywhere. Also, the kids thought it was oh so clever to turn my name Monica into "Moni-Cow."
On my birthday in 8th grade, my friends decorated my locker with a poster for people to sign and wish me Happy Birthday. There were a handful of nasty comments that ended up on my poster. (in reference to my weight.. calling me fat, telling me to call Jenny Craig, etc.) It was awful.
I can't say that all of that hell in Junior is completely to blame for my issues now, but I know it had a significant impact on me and still haunts me. I am now very underweight (diagnosed with anorexia) and have been fighting anorexia/bulimia for 8 years.
Words hurt. A lot. And people need to know that they can stick around and echo in people's heads for years after.
This is my story... Conan. Sherman Tank. Cow. Moo'ed at from a moving car. Asked out on a date in the hallway as a joke. Tormented. Laughed at. Whispered about. I'm amazed at the sense of entitlement these people had - these kids who made my school years a living hell. Being six feet tall at age 13 is not a good time. Developing at a rate that terrified me, and had me wailing at my mother, "What is happening to my body?!" Hips, thighs, boobs at eye level of all the boys in school. I was an outsider, the new kid, from away. It was middle school in a small town. Jokes at my expense constantly. "Accidents" where I would be hit in the head with baseballs in gym class, or tripped, or shoved into walls.Complete social isolation and ostracization. Children are cruel, and adults ineffective.
This is my story... “Big girl.” I’ve always been a “big girl,” except for, perhaps, when I was born- tipping the scales at 4 pounds, 9 ounces. A premature baby destined to be a “big girl.”
In kindergarten, I came home weeping after a girl threw mud on me and called me names. The teacher loaned me a book entitled Don’t Call Me Fatso; I loved it. I thought, in my young age, maybe I could lose weight and be happy like the girl in the book. I was only half wrong.
I was always a loner. I liked to read and never had many friends. Throughout elementary school I was called a dog, a fatso; O, yes and my personal favorite- jellyroll. It never seemed like much of an insult to me: A jellyroll was sweet and filled with tart, tangy fruit… It’s not so bad to be compared to that. During my elementary school days, my very supportive mother would sew me clothing in uniform colors so that I didn‘t have to wear the tight, unflattering clothes. She was quite upset at my coming home everyday in tears and taught me a truth so resounding that I can never forget it. She told me to tell the children who teased me “You’re making fun of me because you don’t like yourself.” The realization of how true this is shocked me and I used it often.
In junior high my tormentors learned curse words. Now, I was a fat bitch. Quite the upgrade, isn’t it? I dreaded health classes because I knew, sooner or later, we’d talk about the food pyramid and I could feel all eyes on me. Their stares could have burnt a hole in my back if they each had the strength of just one lit match. One day, after class, a boy who was in a few of my classes waited outside the classroom for me. When he saw me, he threw raisins and M&Ms at me. He called me a whale and told me he was surprised that a fat girl like me wasn’t eating the food up from the ground. Boys often pushed their buddies over to me and said “Hey, isn’t that your girlfriend?” while their buddies scrambled to stay away from me.
High school… was… high school. My freshman year, a kid called me fat and kicked me in the back of the knees and made me fall while walking up the stairs. Other than that, not too bad, I suppose, except for my junior and senior years. During my junior and senior years there was a boy… one boy… that I had to walk past every day. (We passed each other on a thin suspended walk-way between two buildings.) He would walk by me and say something sexual, something mean. And I would ignore him. It didn’t stop. So I started to stand back and wait for him to pass and when he was gone, I’d go to class. Once, I just got fed up with him and asked him what his problem was. He ran. He was such a coward that he wouldn’t even face the little, fat chick he was teasing. I had gone to my counselor before this occasion and I went after. I paid 2 or 3 visits to my counselor who did nothing but watch me weep.
My senior year, it started up again. I had to walk past where he and his troop stood to get to my class. As I walked, I would get a sexual comment, whoops and cat calls, teasing and a group of about 2 or 3 confronting me. At one point, the boy had a cone used to make your voice louder that was handed out during a foot ball game. He called, “Free cock! Free cock!” And then, as I walked by, pointed the cone right in my face and shouted, “But not for you!”-as if I’d ever touch a thing as foul, as shriveled and ill as his penis. HA! He still wishes! But I still went to my counselor… and still… nothing was done. Once, I even went up to him and ended up surrounded by his friends as I besought him to have some balls and face me. He wouldn’t. Coward.
It really came to a head when I was walking to class and all of a sudden the boy ran up to me holding a piece of cardboard cut out in the shape of a knife and said “I’m going to fucking kill you!” and followed me to class growling. (Now that I look back on it, I should have slugged him and claimed self defense.) I went directly to my counselor the moment I knew the kid was gone. The counselor never did anything… so finally, my mom got in on it. I really didn’t want it to come to that, but nothing was being done. She wrote the principal and my counselor calling him out on his apathy for the situation. The dean of the school called me in and in the end the boy was expelled from the school, apparently he’d been in trouble before. I didn’t really want him to be expelled… that was just the school covering their ass because the counselor didn’t do his job. I just wanted to talk to the kid and let him know that I wasn’t going to take his shit. I just wanted it to stop. Unfortunately, because he was expelled, that wouldn’t be the last of my torment: His friends, angry because he was gone, took his place in harassing me.
It is good to know that I went into the my counselor’s office and let him know what a sorry excuse he was for a school worker. I told him he should quit his job because he didn’t deserve to go home every day thinking he made a young person’s life better when all he did was sit and watch them cry. I shouted at him. I told him that he was the reason my torture went on for so long. I told him that it could have been over the beginning of my junior year but I had to suffer until the end of my senior year because he refused to help. I told him that kids commit suicide when adults won’t actively help them. And when I reminded him that I had been in his office begging for help “a number of times” that year, he had the balls to say “two times.” I looked him in the eye and said “Two is a number, idiot. It should only take one.” In reality I had been in over 15 during the two school years.
Though my harassment and torture has scarred me, I can now look at myself and see a beautiful woman. I would not wish my pain on anyone, ever and hope we can educate young people about the beauty that all people have and warn them of the pain they can cause very easily. It’s taken a long time but I love myself and everything I stand for and I think all of you should too. The things I’ve gone through have cemented honorable traits in me, I think.
I’m fat and fine. Big and beautiful. Plump and pretty. Large and lovely. I’m also smart and creative and irresistibly cute. I’m glad I’m a big girl because now I can stand up against the world and say “HA! Dig this world! You’re not going to make me hide! You’re not going to make me cry! I’ve been through it all! You’re just going to have to learn to love me!” My friends, make the world love you too. I love you. The next step is to make sure you love you. The world will follow.
This is my story... I just recently turned 24 which is pretty amazing for this still fat kid. I was a skinny kid until the summer before 3rd grade. I had never thought to judge those who were different from me I grew up in a very diverse neighborhood with parents who always taught me that everyone is special. I had difficulty fitting in even when I was thin because I was very clumsy and still am. When I started to gain weight my family, friends (the few I actually had), teachers as well as my doctors never thought much of it at first. It was all just "pre-growth spurt" fat. However my classmates jumped on the chance to make fun of the fat girl. It damaged my self esteem for years to come. For the most part teachers and parents tried to help protect me from the stabbing comments that got more painful and more complex as the years went on. The first time I tried to kill myself I was finishing up my 3rd grade year. We move to a supposedly better area after 4th grade and I thought of it as a fresh start and maybe I wouldn't be judged for the fat but for the me on the inside. Instead on my first day of 5th grade it was even worse. I was lucky for 5th and 6th grade I had very caring teachers who helped me build some esteem and helped me to view myself as person and not some repulsive blob. Jr. High got worse yet again with teachers who could barely even remember my name let alone make me feel like less of a freak. I tried killing myself several more time through out the rest of Jr. High and up to my Junior year in High School. I think one of the things that changed my mind about suicide was when one classmate looked at me and said "You are so fat and ugly no one will ever love you and you might as well kill yourself and put everyone out of the misery of having to see your fat ass." That comment didn't sting so much as it pissed me off to the point that I had the sudden desire to stay alive just to piss him off! My parents still don't know about my numerous attempts and really how depressed I was growing up. I feel much better about myself now because I have found plenty of people who love me for me and would if I were 250LBs or 150LBs (ideal weight for my height). I came across this page when just messing around with Google but I am so glad I got the chance to tell others some of the things I went through because of my weight.
This is my story... I have been fat since I was about six months old. I was a chubby kid and what would be considered now to be a curvy teenager. I was tormented for being fat so much that now when I look at me at age 15 or so, I wonder why they did - I was about a size 16, but totally suited for my height and bone structure, just a bit overweight. This was in the 70s.
When I was in the 6th grade - 11 years old - we had a party for leaving elementary school. Some of the boys had taken to calling me "the quake".
One of them had his mother iron on letters to the back of his tshirt - which said "Beware of the Quake". Everyone thought it was hysterical, teachers included (then again, they also participated in much of my torment). I even managed to take a photo of it, I was so horrified by what he'd done - I wanted proof.
Those grade school years shaped my thoughts about myself in ways none of those people could ever comprehend. That story is just the tip of the iceberg.
This is my story... as a fat child I made fun of inside the classroom, on the playground, just walking through a store, but the most painful words came from my family. I never really understood my mother's thinking, as she was overweight as well, but she delivered the most severe and painful words I've ever gotten. I have memories of sitting on the living room floor watching Saturday morning cartoons, and my mother would walk into the room. I could feel her staring at me with such hatred and disgust before she'd remark "you're so fat. I wouldn't be surprised if you died of a heart attack before you turn 15." she couldn't stop with just that, though. when my body became too large to fit into a pair of shorts, she'd give them to my older, skinny sister, and tell me that it might be a while, but eventually my sister would grow into them. on another occasion, when I was nine years old, I wanted to play softball for my school, so when I approached my mother about the possibility of trying out, I was told that the uniform company didn't make uniforms in my size. I remember overhearing my mother talking to my aunt, laughing at me saying "yeah, she wants to try out for a softball team! can you imagine that?! she'll be out of breath before she makes it to first base!" my mother seemed to enjoy humiliating me. as a child, when given a slice of watermelon on a plate, I'd end up spilling the juice, so I began using Tupperware bowls sense normal bowls were too small for the rind. my mother had my aunt over one day, and they were discussing my weight gain when my mother grabbed one of the large Tupperware bowls and told my aunt that I fill it with cereal every morning and eat it in one sitting. she said it right there with me in the room; I just couldn't believe what I was hearing, so I corrected her and informed her of what I really used them for. she began yelling at me, saying that I was accusing her of lying, and she lifted my shirt high above my head and shouted "look at all that. just look at that! how can you tell me that you're not eating as much as I said? I can barely afford to keep food in your mouth, much less the rest of the family, too!" as I'm writing this so many memories pop into mind. too many to write, really. I'm 21 now, so obviously my mother's prediction of death by 15 was wrong. she denies that any of the above ever happened, but my siblings remember it well. though she doesn't try to hurt me as often, she still refers to my favorite clothing store as "Omar the tent maker". I'm lucky that at this point in my life I've found people who love me despite my weight. my boyfriend makes me feel incredibly special and loved, as well as beautiful. he and my friends have helped me realize that my mother was (and still is) poisoning my life by saying those hurtful things. and now, though her words still hit hard, it's easier for me to shrug them off. I don't want to have to cut off contact with my mother, but I will for the good of my sanity and feeling of self-worth. I've grown so much in the last ten years.
This is my story... I do not know when I became a fat child. I have a picture of myself at five, climbing a wooden jungle gym, and I am long and lean. So, after that. I do know that it began over pop tarts, of all things. You see, Kellogg's began making pop tarts, and my family began buying them, and from thence eating them. I liked blueberry. I do not so much now (that is another story), but back then, all things blueberry, I liked. Chiefly pop tarts and muffins. At any rate, one morning my folks suggested that I eat only half a pop tart instead of a whole one. They did not elaborate, and I was confused, naturally; a whole pop tart had been sitting just fine with me. I saw no reason to change an existing food policy, especially one that seemed to be working so well. I remember resisting, but relenting. This half pop tart policy, I did not like so much. "Half" very often ended up being far less than half, with the larger portion returned to the bag so that it would be nice and stale the following morning. I was not aware of my weight, or my looks, and to some extent I still am not. By the seventh grade, however, I was definitely a compulsive overeater. My mother fixed me reasonable meals, and I would sneak food all day long and into the night. Maybe it was the stress of moving from a class of six in a school of maybe a hundred and fifty to a class of two hundred fifty in a school of six hundred. Ah, public school. For whatever reason, my school photograph put on probably thirty pounds between seventh and eighth grades. I developed adolescent asthma, which I have left behind me, and which I suspect may have been psychosomatic. I got sick a lot; to be fair, I feigned illness a lot. But asthma drugs did succeed in making me sick on many occasions. My mother, a nurse in a pediatric practice, ended up taking me with her to work more than I would have liked. Check ups were bad news. My Doctor had a bit of a W. C. Fieldsian attitude towards fat kids. Usually, his diagnosis sounded something like "You're fine. There's just too much of you." My mother obsessed about my weight, and I continued to sneak food. Bagels, mostly, other breads, chicken noodle soup in a cup, Arizona iced tea, and any candy I could get my hands on. My parents hid candy from me, and I never found where. When they brought treat food into the house they could not hide, I devoured it, and got in trouble. They bought a box of thirty ice cream sandwiches. I ate three or four a day for five or six days running. They caught me, obviously. I knew they would catch me, but I convinced myself that turning the box around so that the open flap faced the back of the freezer would allow me to escape detection. The most humiliating repercussion from that episode came the day following, when Oprah featured an obese single mother, her four-hundred pound teen boy and her one-hundred fifty pound seven-year old. Mom called me into the room (I was not an Oprah fan; go figure), pointed to the kid on TV, whose lap was missing (I felt sorry for him. I wondered if he was able to go to school, and hoped so), and announced to me, "that could very easily be you." I stayed awake all night scribbling panicky gibberish with a shaky hand. By my sophomore year in high school, I was two hundred twenty five pounds, easily twenty five pounds heavier than I imagined when I ascended the doctor's scale and announced that it must be broken. The doc pointed to some discolored scar-like skin on the inside of my right arm and told me those were stretch marks, which indicated that I'd put the weight on very fast. Iced tea and cup soup late at night, every night, plus starches all day probably played a major hand in that. Still got'em. I was scared, and I told him that I wanted the weight removed. SO I went on the Atkins diet five years before anybody knew it was the Atkins diet, or as I like to call it, "crazy nightmare diet." Rice was the only one of my favorite foods that made the cut. Everything else was either stuff I wouldn't eat (liver? no. Not liver) or stuff I wasn't crazy about. For months I ate egg whites for breakfast and had yogurt and cold turkey for lunch. Some kind of turkey for dinner, usually, also. I still ate compulsively, something like three to five granny smith apples in a row late at night (they kept better than the other kinds), but I was somehow losing weight. I made it down to, let's say, 185, at just under six feet. Then, of course, I went out of my cotton-picking mind. I began eating raw spaghetti, because anything not prepared, of course, didn't really count, right? Raw spaghetti. Try it once. Grab a bundle, bite off a wad and suck on it 'til it gets soft enough to chew. Only one other time did I eat raw spaghetti, and that was when I came home tired from working all day in college, had nothing else in the house and felt too fatigued to boil the stuff. I do not recommend. When I went away to college, I actually lost weight the first year. Every time I came back from school, everyone told me I had lost weight. This went on even after I gained everything back. I assumed everyone remembered me at my fattest, so that every time they saw me it appeared to them that I had lost. Neat trick, eh? I don't know pound wise, but I do know that at six feet the worst it got was 38-"relaxed" Dockers slacks started getting a bit hard to button in front. I think I'm a bit out of childhood, here, but there's closure to be gotten. By some miracle (I have no idea how I did it), I lost just about the whole enchilada the last semester of college. My family was telling me how good I looked constantly. I was described as a "bean-pole." I was told I should avoid losing any more, even though I still have a bit of a belly and some ass fat. It's probably a good thing I moved away from home, because when I stay with the folks I eat everything that isn't nailed down. Somehow, on my own, I'm more level headed. Still, I can't tell the difference. Except in my face, in which the absence of a double-chin is easy to spot, it's as if my body is invisible to me. It all looks the same. And I am paranoid about gaining back, since I'm not sure how I lost in the first place. I do know that I eat less food now. I also know that there are certain foods it would not be a good idea to keep in the house, because I will simply consume everything in the package in one sitting. I am talking about cheeses, bagels, just about anything that is pre-packaged and requires no preparation. I bought ice cream today. I ate three bowls tonight. I am afraid to buy ice cream again.
This is my story... I always thought I was a fat kid. I was told I was a fat kid. My food was always monitored and it seemed I was always being put on a diet or some food restriction. I grew up being led to believe that being fat was a very bad thing. I didn't understand this because both my mother and my grandmother who I lived with were fat. My grandma WAS fat, but she was FIT. She used to mow an acre and a half of yard with a push mower in her fifties and sixties with no problems at all. She used to garden for hours out on her hands and knees, weeding and planting and reaping her crop. She was my first role model of a fit and fat woman and I thought she was the coolest. In fact, if I hadn't been told that being fat was bad I don't think it ever would have entered my mind. Nobody at school bothered me about it and my friends didn't seem to care. Why was my family so dead set against it? It always baffled me. I grew up thinking I was substandard because I wasn't thin. I was always trying to change my naturally voluptuous body into something it could never be. When I look back on pictures of me growing up now: http://www.lisalove.20m.com/photo4.html I don't even look fat! I think my family meant well. I think they were trying to save me from ever becoming fat (I am fat now) and experiencing the discrimination that goes along with it, but I think their good intentions had tragic consequences. I grew up feeling inadequate. I grew up feeling ugly. I grew up thinking no one would ever love a fat girl. I grew up feeling guilty for nourishing my body with food. I grew up thinking to be fat was to be bad. And when I eventually became fat it translated into my thinking I had finally become bad. Oh what I would give to go back in time and educate my family to teach me to love my body. That my differences made me beautiful and that I was a strong, powerful, beautiful girl capable of anything I wanted in life. Finally after discovering the Size Acceptance community I have found that family who supports what my body looks like and tells me those things I long to hear: I am beautiful, I am special, I am capable, I am good, and I am fat and it is a great thing to be.
This is my story... My parents spent a lot of time and effort on my weight problem. They tried everything, from diets to rewards, from humiliation to practically begging. They had me checked out at Yale to be sure that nothing was really wrong with me. I will never forget undergoing all these tests, and being so afraid. Nothing was found. When I was thirteen they sent me to a camp for fat girls for the summer. I lost about 40 pounds that summer, but regained it all by the next summer. I was so embarrassed to be "sent away" to this camp. I think embarrassment characterizes my childhood fairly well. I think I was a terrible embarrassment to my parents, even though they never said it. I can remember their friends and relatives saying things like what are you doing about her weight, etc. I feel sorry that my parents had to be subjected to that. I can only imagine what was said behind my back and behind theirs. I think my parents did they best they knew how. I have two "normal" sisters and a brother, and I think I embarrassed them too. I never really was involved in the same activities and things they were, and I remember reading a lot when I was young and doing a lot of solitary things. My siblings sometimes made fun of me, but not too much.
This is my story... I was an overweight child but not an obese one. I grew up in an Italian family where eating was praised: to a point. Weight gain , however was not praised. There were also problems I had with childhood sexual abuse and I think the pounds made me feel somehow safer. My mother did not actually berate me for it that I can remember. She did put my appearance down in general though on occasion. Sometimes she's called me lazy. Sometimes she'd yell at me to get off my fat ass. My father yelled at me once after we went to select clothing and my body image after playing with the other girls and their hipless "dawn dolls" left a lot to be desired. At age 11 I already hated the way I looked. When I look at pictures from childhood I see I was very pretty and not at all obese. I was slightly chubby. I am now an overweight adult. I am 5'6 and weigh 200 pounds. This is the heaviest I've ever been in my adult life. I must be going through something . I gained 40 pounds in the past three years. It seems to have happened when I went back to work after staying home for 9 years with my child. Maybe it's because of the childhood sexual abuse and other issues I've experienced. I am also the parent of a beautiful daughter who is obese. I never tell her this; but doctor s and her school mates do. I sometimes make half hearted comments or suggestions about both of us modifying our diets and getting together an exercise plan but I can't seem to follow through. I am worried about her. Today I noticed stretch marks on her hips. She's about 5'1 and she weighs 153 pounds. She also has emotional problems and school problems. I don't want to be a nag and I don't want to make her feel bad but I would like her to move more and eat a little healthier.
This is my story... Well I guess I can start out this way, you see I used to be very skinny until I got into 3rd grade when I started gaining weight. I didn't really notice it until it was to late I guess, one day I just looked up and it was like this. I think it was because I used to be active and I am not really any more. my family and friends all say I am not fat, but sometimes my cousin does not help. he pretends to make up games but there is always a fat person on there named after me. he laughs and thinks it is funny but really not at all. I am only about 30 lbs overweight. well actually my weight is fine for my age but I would like to get rid of my tummy and a little off the thighs. I am determined and my mom is helping me. I like to play basketball and getting more active again is the best thing for me I guess right now. but I am loosing weight. I've lost two lbs now and would like to keep loosing. my mom bought a treadmill and I am getting on it a few times a week and that is helping me. I try not to go over eating a certain # of calories a day which is really easy if you balance your day out and it works but you can't go having snacks. but basically my family doesn't care how much I weigh. and still since my cousin is skinny he doesn't have to worry about it but it does hurt. I am a strong girl so if it was coming from someone else I could take it and probably wouldn't care but not my cousin.
This is my story... When I was a child I was always a little bit overweight. Probably five to ten pounds. Everyone else was normal or skinny so I was the one picked on. I rose above it but the pain will always be there nagging in the back of my mind. My husband is a warm and loving man who never cares how much I weight. My issue now is my beautiful 11 year old daughter. Since the second grade on she has had a tummy that won't go away. She wanted to wear a two piece by her birthday so we started walking a mile in the morning and doing sit-ups - together. We love our time each morning away from everyone else when she tells me all the little things going on in her life. She's in the fifth grade now and still working on her tummy. She's about 15 pounds overweight - all in her stomach area so it's more pronounced. I'm feeling so scared and helpless as her mother to help her. I know if she doesn't get it off - it will be a battle for life. We walk in the morning, she plays fall, winter and spring soccer. We have added running
This is my story... When I was a child, I had a lot of food allergies. So, from the get-go, the foods I could eat were severely restricted to bland, non-sugary (read: boring) foods. In spite of this, I was a fat child. Actually, I think I started out being just slightly chubby -- not the skinny child my older sister had been -- and I took after my Dad's side of the family, who are healthy-built Italians. I remember my mother putting me on my first diet when I was 4. I was in nursery school, and wanted to wear a Strawberry Shortcake dress to my "graduation," but my mother said it wouldn't look as pretty unless I lost a few pounds. I didn't know any better, so I did what she said, and the cycle began. The more restrictive she was, the more I snuck food, and ate compulsively, regardless of what I was eating. My dad never once nagged me about my weight. He died when I was 11. I was chastised all my life by my grandmother, mother and my sister, told "You don't need to eat that," told "I love you no matter what," while telling me I'll never be happy unless I become thin. I suppose, in my mother's mind, she thought she was helping me, trying to change my body so that the merciless teasing at school would stop. But I'm 24 now, and I still haven't gotten over her cruel behavior, the cruel taunts from school kids, or the idea that my happiness is dependent upon my dress size. Maybe, someday, I'll get there.
This is my story... I know now, as a 25 year old and 330lb woman, that I have several different metabolic and endocrine disorders. But I didn't know that when I was a child. Nobody knew that. Everyone thought that my problem was that I was lazy and I ate all the time. I didn't though. I remember so much of my life being scared because I couldn't control my body and feeling guilty just for existing. I probably weighed over 200lbs by the time I was 14. I was tall, and that helped, but not enough. School was torture, I wanted to die when I saw the way some people looked at me. I knew, I always knew, that because I was fat I didn't deserve to have friends or, god knows, a boyfriend. It was unthinkable. Something about me was so obviously bad and disgusting, people didn't want to be with me. My name was Blubberbutt for years. In high school the gym teacher used to make me run extra laps after everyone else had finished, because I 'needed to lose the weight.' Even in college, I remember a day when a group of guys followed me all around campus yelling "Jiggle! Jiggle! Jiggle!" with every step I took. From the time I was about 10 years old perfect strangers would stop me on the street. I remember being out to the mall with girlfriends once when I was 15 and a woman ran up to me and yelled, "Why don't you go on a diet!" Worse than that though, was the pain and embarrassment I caused my family. I had been their darling when I was little. Now I definitely was not, and I knew it was because I was fat that they didn't love me any more and were sad when they looked at me. My younger brother was embarrassed to know me, except when he would invite his pre-teen friends over so they could gawk at my 'big tits.' Once I made the mistake of taking the same bus home he rode. I had had a happy day and wanted to see him. No one would come near me on the bus and when my brother boarded, he looked like he wanted to die. Then he pointed at me and the empty seat next to me and yelled, "Hey look! That girl's so fat she takes up two seats!" Everyone laughed but me. My mother told me that I was an embarrassment to her, and she didn't know what to do with me. My grandmother always always always managed to put a comment into everything she said about what I shouldn't eat. My mother informed me in high school that if I kept going, they wouldn't make clothes big enough for me to wear and she didn't know how the family would clothe me. All this time, I was eating less than 10 grams of fat a day and watching my calories. I was active too, but I kept gaining weight. Anyway now I know why, and I can treat it. I'm happy. I moved around a lot, found myself, learned that I wasn't a bad person because of how I looked. I dated models in college and married a gorgeous kind man a year ago who tells me I am beautiful every day. I do a lot of volunteer work, I want to make sure other women with these disorders don't suffer so like I did.
This is my story... When I was a child I use to come home crying because of others picking on me. My mom and grandmother were always there offering me a shoulder to cry on. My grandfather (who is a good person) but made me feel like a whale in a small house. As I grew up I became more verbal which lead to tears (it made him feel bad when I cried). I would get angry and tell him off, not mean or using curse words but just how I felt when he said those things to me. I understand they want to help but to me, but don't. It has to be MY decision not anyone else. He has laid off, but every time I see some slim fast commercial or something, I tense up when he is in the room because I don't want to hear "You need to lose weight". Duh, hello I live with my "problem" 24/7. I know that I am large. Now, I don't hear him say that anymore. I do tense sometimes when the news talks about over-weight children. It is hard for someone to understand the emotional and physical stress of peer pressure. Lose weight, have sex, have a boyfriend etc. etc. I sometimes want to scream. I know that there are health problems associated with being overweight, but so is smoking, drinking and the list goes on. Know what though, I LOVE ME FOR ME. I don't want to change. I like to stick out in a crowd. I will be remembered. I am different. I am a BBB. (Big Beautiful Brunette) who is successful in whatever I do, wherever I go. Here are some hints when you are feeling blue: MAXIMIZE YOUR GOOD POINTS, MINIMIZE THE BAD ONES. NO ONE IS PERFECT. BE HAPPY FOR WHO YOU ARE NOT WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE. Beauty fades in time, what you are inside is there forever. Live life to the fullest and enjoy who you are. There is only one you. No one else can fill those unique shoes.
This is my story... I have always been "heavy", but I got fat my senior year of high school when I hit `198 lbs and being only 5'2" didn't help at all. Now, add 40 lbs. to that and that's where I'm at now. One memory I can't get out of my mind, I was about 10 years old and me and my 2 skinny cousins were out "running around" we went to one of their friends' house, who was also very skinny along with her older brothers. Well, one of the brothers got out the scale and the "fun" started. They started teasing me about being careful and not break the scales when I got on them and they probably wouldn't go up that high. Well, I just ran out of the house crying, while my cousins and their friends just kept laughing. I'm 33 years old and that was about 23 years ago, I just won't ever forget.
This is my story... I grew up in a home with a heavy father. I didn't think I was a heavy kid at all but was told all the time I was fat. My grandmother used to say it was just "baby fat" and it would go away. I loved her for defending me. I missed her when she died, nobody in my corner anymore! When I look back on my childhood pictures, I still don't see a fat child. I see a normal healthy kid. I am now a "fat" adult. Sometimes I wonder if it was partly because I was always told I was fat? Kind of like telling a kid they are stupid? As soon as I could live on my own, I ate, ate, ate. You see, at our house you could only eat at specified times. Nothing in between meals. I learned how to sneak a few things out of the cabinets while my parents were out on a shopping trip. Maybe a cookie or mini candy bar by moving it ever so slightly out of the package so as not to disturb the box/bag. Finally off on my own, I was still told I was "Too fat" to find a man! Well, I was in the right weight range back then for today's' charts! I was no Alley McBeal. Now, I am in the Woman's' Clothes and accepting myself as a "large person". My husband married me at this weight. He looks all the time at the "Skinnies". Yes, it bothers me, but he did choose me. I lost most of the weight a few times. I can't eat that way forever! The rest of my life could be a long, long time or it could be tomorrow. I don't binge anymore and I stay about the same weight. I wish society could accept us all for who we are inside and not just for who we are outside. I was treated so differently when I lost the weight. Just watch how a "large person" is watched and treated at a buffet! Nobody watches the "skinnies". Let's all keep our heads high, dress nice and keep as good an attitude as possible.
This is my story... When I was a child I was thin up until my mother re-married when I was 11. My step father was an alcoholic and was emotionally abusive to my entire family. He had children from his previous marriage and in his eyes my siblings and I were pond scum, or so it seemed, his children were perfect and could do no wrong. We could do nothing to please him. He wanted me to call him dad, even though I preferred to call him by his real name, Dick! I just couldn't bring myself to accept him as a father figure which I have never really had. My father died from cancer when I was only 4 years old and I felt as if my life was not complete, there was an empty place in my heart. This man was so emotionally abusive he even told me once that I was not allowed to have a picture of my father in my room. It's not like I wanted a billboard of him in the back yard, I just wanted a reminder of who my father was. Dick even told me, "Your father is dead, I'm your father now." OUCH! How was an 11 year old supposed to handle a comment like that? Food of course. That was the one thing in my life that was always there for me. My mother realized that she was in a bad marriage, but with Dick moving into the house that my mother and father had planned on building before he passed away, she was afraid that he would take the house in the divorce. As the next few years went by I started gaining weight. When they married I was a size 6 with a nice pre-teen figure. By the time I was 14 I weighed almost 200 pounds. I tried to lose weight but every time I lost a few pounds, there was Dick picking me apart little by little saying things like, "If you don't lose more weight you will never have a boyfriend." and "You'd be pretty if you were skinny." So what did I do? Eat everything I could find. When I turned 16, like every teenager, I couldn't wait to get my drivers license. My birthday came and went and Dick finally decided that he needed to discuss the driving issue with me. He took my mother and me to a very popular restaurant for dinner and he proceeded to embarrass me to no end. He finally brought up the topic of driving and I couldn't believe what he said. "You are not going to get your drivers license because your weight affects your driving." What? I did my best to hold back the tears and what I couldn't understand is how can my weight affect my driving but his drinking didn't affect his. Before the meal was over a nice gentleman came over to the table and told Dick that he needed to keep his voice down and to stop embarrassing this pretty young lady. Me, a pretty young lady! Wow did that make my day! Needless to say, I didn't get my drivers license until I was 18 and out of high school, against Dick's wishes, but what could he do. By that time I was 250+ pounds. I was like the snowball rolling down hill, I just kept getting bigger. I thought I would die a single fat old lady, if I was lucky. I never had many friends or dated while in high school because I didn't want people to meet Dick and see the life I really lived. Alone in my room with my cat and all the food I could find. As I went off to college my mother filed for divorce and things just got worse. I worried for her safety and couldn't do anything to control the situation. So I ate. By the time I was out of college I weighed 275 - 280 and felt that my life was going no where. One night in college I even took an entire bottle of pills and washed it down with a bottle of vodka hoping that I wouldn't wake up the next morning. Well, I realized the next morning that I really did have friends. They had made me go to the campus clinic the night before and get my stomach pumped. There were people who cared about me! :o) A few years passed and I met the man of my dreams and to my surprise, he thought I was beautiful (who me?) Size didn't matter to him, I tipped the scales at 300 pounds. Believe it or not we actually met in a grocery store. Go figure, food had to be involved in our meeting. We were married after a 2 year engagement and have now been married for 4 years. Just last year I decided that even though I was happier than I had been in years I needed to do something about my weight. I wanted to live a long and happy life with my husband and I was worried that I would end up with serious medical conditions because of the stress that the weight had put on my body. I decided to have my stomach stapled. My husband was concerned about the procedure and how safe it would be, but if that's what I needed to do, he would stand by me. I had the surgery last April (2000) and can proudly say that I have lost almost 115 pounds. I still have about 40 more to go, but with the support of my husband and my family I will lose the remaining weight in no time. I feel better that I have in years and I can honestly say that I was never really happy until I lost this weight. I know what a sad thing to say, but for me it's true. I love my life and wouldn't change a thing. All of those years of being overweight taught me to be proud of who I am, be confident and most of all be myself. It doesn't matter what strangers think of you, it only matters what you think of yourself. If you have the love of family and friends, you really don't need anything else. I finally have a life that doesn't revolve around food, instead I have a life that revolves around living good active life and love that has no boundaries. I am "Finally Happy!" If my family reads this I just want to say thanks for all of your love and support over the years. And to my husband, Doug, I love you more today than I did yesterday and I will love you more tomorrow than I do today! Thanks for showing me what life really is! Wonderful!!!
This is my story... I'm 14 now and STILL overweight! aaaaarrrgggh! My family have always made a big issue out of this. Even when I was really small (like, 3 or 4 years old) I can remember my mum, auntie and grandma looking at me in a swimsuit and saying "Look at the size of her." My mother has never given me sweets or any kind of junk food, even now, because she says I'll put more weight on. When I was younger though she could be really mean, sometimes she just used to say she wasn't making me any lunch/dinner or whatever, because I needed to lose weight so badly, I'd have to start skipping meals. At one point she put me on that diet where you only eat vegetable soup for two weeks, but I was sick after consuming half a bowl, so she said I could stop. When my cousin (who, I might add, is 7 years younger than me) came to visit once, she was going through a stage where she was really fussy about her food. My mum said to me, in front of everyone, at dinner "Why can't you be like Sarah and never eat?" If she ever saw me eat anything she didn't approve of, she would tell me I was an impulsive eater, or whatever it's called. Even now I have to go running in the winter and swimming in the summer, because she makes me. But one day when I'd got really, really sick of her saying all this stuff about my weight, I told her so and she said she'd stop if it bothered me that much but I'd just have to hope to lose it naturally when I'm older. And she's never been really mean again since then.
This is my story... since I can remember I was a chubby child. I could never understand why it was that out of all my 10 cousins I was the overweight one. My family constantly was on my case telling my mother to put me on a diet. I remember visiting my doctor which always insisted on sending me to visit a dietician. it was utter humiliation. It was hard to understand since I was only 8 years old. Ah finally when I hit my teens I joined a gym and I began to lose the weight. I dropped from 160pounds to 120pounds! I managed to keep the weight for about a year. but unfortunately as I visited the gym less I began to gain the pounds. now I am 20 years old and by battle with the bulge continues. its very hard being overweight but its becoming more accepted now! my advice just be happy with yourself. not everybody was born to fit in a size 3!
This is my story... I was a fat kid.... yes and I really hated it when I was a child that the fact I am bigger than most kids in my country. I am an Asian and It's really hard growing up when I was fat. My cousins, aunties, mum's friends... they all called me fat. But they also think I am cute too, they said that I had the face but not the body. And when you are a teen and most guys, I mean Asian guys, they are likely to have slim or thin girlfriends. Then I moved to Australia. In Australia the magazines told us to love ourselves and our bodies because we all have different shapes and sizes. Back in my country, the magazines told us to be "always slim". Last year (when I was 15) I used to starved myself and skipped meals. Now I am a mature 16 and even though I am short and very chubby, I really love my body, and my self... There's nothing wrong of being fat, as long as we are fit and healthy and we have good personalities... people will love you for who you are, not what you are.
This is my story... At first I thought I might contribute to the school category. Then I realized that even though the scars I received there have not yet healed (and I am in my 40s), they are in the past...and my family is still very much in the present. I grew up in an extended family, Italian, where food and eating are hugely important. I was of average weight until I had my tonsils out at age 6, and then, I am told, I gained 20 pounds very quickly. (I noticed other people on this site have mentioned weight gain after tonsillectomy...wonder if there's a connection?). Of course, there was the tremendous stress of parents who fought, and an ugly divorce, which probably contributed to my weight gain. When I got fat, there was hand-wringing all around over my size. I don't remember being put on actual diets, but the kinds of food I ate was restricted; we never had "bad" foods in the house (chips, cookies, etc.). However, I remember countless comments, usually made to other relatives, about my weight and how sad it was. I was never taunted, but comments to me were along the lines of "if you could just lose some weight, you could wear such pretty clothes, you wouldn't be made fun of...YOU HAVE SUCH A PRETTY FACE. Every fat girl and woman has heard that one, and cringes every time. I was just tortured at school. My mother didn't know how to deal with it, and I think she was ashamed of the problem. I do not remember receiving a lot of affection or affirmation, since my family was very repressed about expressing these things, and had a generally negative outlook. Of course they loved me, they just weren't very good at showing it in the way that I desperately needed. And then there were the mixed messages, all about food. Eat everything on your plate, even the peas that make you gag. Food as a reward. Food as love. Children are starving in China. You have to eat that because it's good for you. When I was 14, my mother and I went to the family doctor who agreed we could both lose some weight. At that time, I weighed 150 lbs at 5'2". He put both of us on Dexedrine and a diet. This was 1973, and I don't think any doctor would do this now. I dropped 25 lbs so easily. Doctors now just shake their heads when I tell them this...giving speed to a 14-year old!? I was pretty average through high school and college, yo-yoing between 125-150, but always seeing myself as fat, unattractive, and unacceptable. I got down to 114 as a college senior, and felt sexy for the first time. (My diet consisted of yogurt and popcorn, by the way. I was so anemic the doctor debated giving me a blood transfusion, and tested me for leukemia). Once I graduated, I had a tough time surviving financially, and had little direction. I slaved at low-paying jobs and had a hard time adjusting, because I had been a very good student, but now I couldn't seem to succeed. I was gaining weight at this time, and I think that had a negative impact on my job prospects. I had no emotional support from my family because I had left the nest...blasphemous in my close knit Italian family. Many years have passed. I still suffer from weight discrimination, although I have worked myself into a respected job. I have dieted many times, sometimes losing 50 or 60 lbs. Right now I am 265, down from my all-time high of 286. I have accomplished this very slowly, by NOT dieting, but by making a commitment to eating healthier. As my family has aged, food has become even more of an obsession. My mother is a wonderful cook and loves to try new things (so do I). Her invitations always involve meals. When I have a meal at her house, although I am still fat, she urges me constantly to have more. She gives me the bigger cut of meat. She insists that I take leftovers home, even when she knows they are not things I should or want to have in the house. She worries that I don't eat "regular" meals, even though, believe me, I don't look like I've missed a meal in quite some time. My self-image is horrible, and I have been in therapy for a year trying to work out these problems (and others that are related). I go through life in a passive, ghostly way, hoping not to be noticed. I fear the taunts of ignorant, cruel people (I've been humiliated in public, mostly in quiet, subtle ways, but occasionally by loudmouths). I try not to blame my mother. She probably did the best she could with what she had. But I know that my problems stem, in part, from the lack of outward affection, the mixed messages, and the shame of having a fat child. I am still the daughter who "never married," who "lives all alone." Even today, the spin is negative. I wish I could say that I have risen above this. I am trying. My therapy is difficult and draining, but I believe that it will help. I hope to achieve some peace and a better, healthier relationship with food. I hope to repair my self-image and confidence, and believe that I am just as deserving of love and happiness as everyone else. I wish the same to all of you who have contributed your stories here.
This is my story... My memories as a fat child are just as hard as everyone else's. The only way that I was ever happy was when I was alone in my room, because there no one could torment my soul. The hardest part was the fact that my own family was executioner. I was always compared to my thin brothers and sister, my thin cousins. All I ever heard from my relatives was "WHY CAN'T YOU BE THIN LIKE" and they would go on giving compliments of achievement to all the thin people in my life. I tried many times to loose weight but always got hurt in the process. It seemed that there was no one who would look at me for who I was inside just the tub of lard that I carried on my body. As a result I grew up and became strong, it made me see the world with a different perspective, it's not the outside that matters. What really matters is what is on the inside. I'm grateful that I was strong enough to overcome the loneliness that I suffered as child. All the teasing in school, and at home only made me tough and ready for anything. Now I myself have a fat child, and now that she started school I can only hope that the world will not be as cruel to her as it was to me, but unlike my parents, I will help her and understand her. This is why I write my story, support your children don't let "FAT" overshadow your kids life and their achievements.
This is my story... when I was about 11, I was teased by friends and family about my weight. I was about 5'3 and I weighed 180 lbs. I thought I was average, just a little chubby. I kept up my eating habits, and by the time I was about 14, I weighed about 210, and 5'6. I knew I needed to lose weight, but I never really thought deeply about it. I started getting stretch marks all over my thighs, and hips, and arms, but I didn't really notice them. My parents and friends nagged more, and the only thing that I could use for comfort was food. I knew it wasn't right and my doctor always told me how to lose weight, I just never bothered to care, and just ate more. Clothes were getting harder and harder to find in my size, and jeans definitely weren't in the picture. So I was teased more about my "fashion style" My sophomore year in high school, I was at my peak in weight, weighing about 250 or more lbs. I knew things had to be done, so every morning, and night I would run (or rather walk/jog) about 2 miles. I now am a senior in high school, and I have lost 40 lbs, and hope for about 50 more.
This is my story... I wasn't always fat. I have the photos to prove it. Prior to starting school, I was a petite child - possibly even underweight. I don't really remember being that thin child. I don't remember going from thin to fat. My awareness of my body began when the children in kindergarten began to call me names like 'fatty boom-sticks'. At that stage, I knew I didn't like being teased and called names, but I hadn't learned to hate myself. That came later. By primary school, I was well and truly aware that I was fat, and that I was, therefore, unacceptable. I had to get the skirt of my school uniform specially made, as the stores didn't stock my size. I wasn't even that big. By the time I was 10 or 11 years old, well meaning friends of my mother suggested that she put me on a diet, so she took me to a nutritionist. Thus began the daily misery of deprivation. I learned that food was 'bad'. I learned that I was 'bad' for wanting to eat, for needing to eat. Perhaps that isn't what the nutritionist and my mother intended, but that was what I learned. I began to skip breakfast and threw my lunch in the bin uneaten (since food was the issue, I was afraid to let people see me eat). By the afternoon, I would be ravenous, but wasn't allowed to snack (since my mother assumed I had eaten well during the day). I remember snitching chicken noodle soup packets from the cupboard, and eating them dry because I was so hungry. My dinner would be restricted to a small, hungry-making size as well. My days were marked by deprivation and hunger. Still I was fat. By the time of our Primary School graduation, I was bulging out of my school uniform. I came Dux of the School (ie. what is known as valedictorian in the US ), but that meant nothing to me. I remember hearing my mother on the phone to one of her friends, bragging about her brainy daughter. Understandable, right? But I started screaming at her: "Coming first in my class is nothing-- it was easy. Why can't you praise me about something that was hard, that was an achievement? Like that I've lost weight recently - can't you see that my skirt is looser? " Talk about screwed up priorities. As I entered high school, I was a mess. I became very withdrawn. I couldn't believe that people, especially boys, could like me. If a boy let me know that he wanted to go out with him, I thought he was having a go at me, and would go back to his friends laughing that I actually thought that he wanted to go out with ME. I rejected them before they rejected me. PE at school was hell. I remember one teacher in particular singling me out to do more laps because I hadn't come in fast enough. I was too fat for her liking. She would do anything she could to make PE hell for me. Oh, I am sure that she thought she was doing the right thing, helping me lose weight, but she was pushing me way beyond my physical capabilities, and all she did was embed a loathing for exercise in my mind. By 15, I had starved, dieted, pummeled and exercised myself to the smallest I ever was (size 12 Australian, which is smaller that the US sizing). But that still wasn't good enough for me, or for those around me. I saw myself as HUGE, elephantine, ugly, hopeless. I felt that I was a failure, because I hadn't attained the magical goal weight that the charts said I should be. Oh, I had lost weight....heaps of it....but it wasn't enough. My perceived lack of success was rubbed in by my stepfather, who bought me a T-shirt that said " I try to lose weight, but it keeps finding me", in puffy fat lettering. He would also say things to me like "you will never be Twiggy". I felt that he was telling me that I wasn't attractive and never would be. The crazy thing is that when I look back on photos from that time, I see a very pretty average sized girl - not fat. At least not as fat as I thought I was. My entire self esteem depended on my weight. It took me a long time before I found myself, and learned to accept myself in my body as it is now. I like my curves. I like the way my belly and butt are rounded and soft. Dieting to me is a four letter word (which is not to say that I don't eat healthily). Please if you have a fat child, be very careful and sensitive about the messages you give him/her. Try to give positive messages to your child - that s/he is loved as s/he is. Try not to embed the FOOD = BAD, YOU EAT, THERFORE YOU = BAD equation. It will do more harm than good.
This is my story... I, 34, myself was overweight -- still am by 25lb., but my daughter age 10 @ 245lb.is very bad overweight. I try to help her; she wants to lose weight. We just can't find anything that works. The kids @ school are sometimes very mean and family sometimes say things. We need help; to help her . If anyone who read this knows anything that will help please let us know.
This is my story... I'm 12 years old right now and I am currently over weight. Some of my best friends are too. I love shopping with them. But when I have to go shopping with my mom I hate it. that means ill have to go try on pair after pair after pair of pants until we find a big enough pair. I'm 12 and already I weigh 158.5 pounds sad huh? My friends and I came from "Fat families" now my mom weighs about as I do and she's 42. :(
This is my story... As a child, I used to lay awake at night and fantasize about what it would be like to be skinny. I remember being made fun of by the boys at school for my weight and my mother and grandmother trying to "help" me lose weight. My grandmother was (and still is) always making degrading remarks about my weight, like "No one in our family has ever been as big as you are." She does this even though she is very obese as well and has been as long as I can remember. Like others on this site, when I look back at pictures, I see a healthy girl-child, maybe slightly more chubby than her friends, but not as fat as I always felt I was. The constant pressure to lose weight from my family finally gave way to me just plain starving myself as a teenager, (no breakfast, a glass of tea for lunch, salad or popcorn for supper.) I can remember being so weak one morning after not eating anything for about 3 days, that I couldn't even stand up when I got out of bed. I crawled into the kitchen and ate a couple of cookies, then crawled to the bathroom after I felt stronger and could stand and weighed myself. 103lbs. That is the least I have weighed since then, when I was 13 years old. I also took "speed" on and off for a while, when I could get my hands on it, which really wasn't hard, due to where I lived (not a good place) and who my step-family was (druggies, to put it nicely.) Today, I am 5 foot, two inches, and weigh 205lbs. The biggest I have been is 235 lbs., right after having my youngest child, who is 7 years old. I can eat whatever I want now, for the most part, and I still weigh the same, and have for about 6 years. I am through with yo-yo dieting, as I know the results don't last, and feel that if I had not done so much of it when I was young, I might not even be this big now, since the more you do "fad" diets, the more muscle mass you lose and then the weight comes back quicker and more of it. The problem is, now my youngest daughter, (who looks just like her mother), is talking about how fat she is and how all of her friends are skinny. It hurts deep inside to hear her talk this way, as I know exactly how she feels, but don't know what to do about it. I just keep telling her that she is a very strong girl, with great muscles, who can do cool things like backbends and walkovers (which she learned in gymnastics), and things like that, but it doesn't seem to help, because she still says that she's fat and ugly. My plan, (especially after reading these messages,) is to continue to tell her how great she is, to continue to help her find activities that she enjoys (like her acrobatics) and continue to emphasize how strong her body is and what amazing things it can do. I hope that one day, she will grow up to be an adult who has learned to value herself for being more than a "waif wanna-be", and for being the intelligent, beautiful, strong woman I know she will become. (Maybe I should start by learning to do this myself, eh?)
This is my story... When I was around 5 I think my family was outside on the porch around 3:00 and I was hungry so I went inside and got a piece of bread. I came outside and my parents told me in front of my brothers that from now on I had to ask to get food. I know it's not a big deal at all..but my appetite suddenly disappeared and I felt sickly fat (at 5 years old!!) from that day on I've been obsessed w/ weight. I've been dieting since kindergarten. I am now a freshman in high school and am 5'3 and 85 pounds. I weigh myself around 10-15 times a day and am actually feeling fat at this moment. Strange how one comment can change everything....
This is my story... I'm 14 now and a bitter-sweet happiness is finally right around the corner. I can't even say "It all started..." Because it's always been. I've always been the chubby one. My childhood idol was my friend from 1st to 4th grade, she was toothpick thin, and though she only brought up my weight once, she never ever cared if I was fat. My mum never cared, but my father. He was Mr. Health Guy. She always hinted to me that I was chubby, never outright saying it, but those hints hurt. Like, when I was in Gymnastics, I came home and was going to make two corndogs and he said that if I wanted to do better on the bars (In gymnastics) that I should eat less. All my life, I just wanted to be thin, that's all. Shopping was a nightmare, I hated it! At 10, I still hated my weight, but at least I wore what I wanted, not what I looked thinner in. At 12-13, I was 4'11 and 140 lbs. I snapped and starved myself. Got to 133 and stayed there for a while. Then went to a horse show, a girl I, even now, fantasize over being, was there. She's thin and pretty and I was miserable, none of the cloths I brought did I like, my dad told me not to eat too much strawberry shortcake, and, well, my period started, so I really didn't want to ride my horse. When I got home, I starved myself more. Doing this thing I call "Diet week." Starve a week, eat a week...I am now down to 115 (5'0)I'm not scared of weight as much, but I'm semi-satisfied, and trying out for 2002 rodeo queen with confidence. I've always wanted to be an actress and that's finally a possibility. Now, for the BITTER-sweet part of this. I'm still starving, I will NEVER be happy with my weight. My ultimate goal is 95. Though I don't know if I'll get past 105. Don't get me wrong, this is the best thing I've ever done in my entire life and I LOVE my dad with all my heart, he's not the reason for this. It's me. I judged myself too hard, I'm only 14 and I've never really been happy cause anything I like somehow is ruined by me thinking about how fat I am. Please, TO PARENTS EVERYWHERE, if you have a child under 5 who might be showing signs of over-weightiness. Don't bring the subject up, but please please please don't let her turn out like me. Don't let your children get fat or I assure you, they will not be as happy as they can be. I'm slowly learning to love my body, but will I ever be finished?
This is my story... As a kid my sister and my mom and dad were the ones who bothered me most about my weight. Once when my sister and me were going to bed, (I sleep on the top cause we had a bunk bed) she always said "hey the boards are bending!" and I said, "oh what am I supposed to do?" then she said "well you could gain less weight fatty!"
This is my story... When I was in the ninth grade I decided to go out for track in hopes of shedding some excess weight. I signed up for the grueling two-mile, and despite weeks of practice, my first race was a disaster. I was lapped by the winner and finished more than a minute behind the second-to-last runner. I will never forget what my mother told me on the way home from the meet. She suggested I pick a sprint instead so I "wouldn't hold up the track meet again" and so "people wouldn't have to watch me run like that." Although now I have dropped seven sizes and wear size 7 jeans, I still feel like that fat, slow girl who was an embarrassment to her track team.
This is my story... Hi, my name is Diana and I am 130lbs. I hate being this way and I know I'm fat and ugly. When I was younger ppl use to call me fatty but they don't anymore cause I guess they've became nice. I'm so fat I can't even do a summersault. my dad always says to me that I need to lose weight and he says this summer he's only gonna buy fruit cause he thinks I'm so big. its so embarrassing being this way cause my sister Victoria is 20 and she weighs 105lbs. I hate being this way and if anyone knows how I could maybe lose some weight please email me. Thank you for taking the time to read my story. :) Diana
This is my story... After gaining about 80 lbs due to pregnancy we were at a Christmas dinner, when my oldest brother looked at me and Moooooed like a cow . I was so hurt I cried by myself for weeks. Always remember who and how you can hurt someone just by sound or jestures be kind we're only here on Earth for a short time and you have no right to judge anyone. Love the neighbor but most of all be kind to all. Thank you for reading this.
This is my story... I started gaining weight in third grade. My family pressured me all the time through out my childhood. I had always been the 'bigger' friend. Then, all the pressure collided on me at once, and I became anorexic and lost forty pounds, bringing me down to 110 pounds. I gained back to 125, but I'm 5' 7" now, and I grew out of it. But, all I know is my problems always started with my family.
This is my story... Three vignettes My childhood memories are spotty and random, for the most part. I'm terrible with dates- but images stick out in my mind. Here are a few: The first time I really felt low and unaccepted for being a fat kid took place in my bedroom. I had just returned from summer camp and my dad was doing some laundry. "Hey, look at this!", said my dad from the other room. He came in wearing a pair of shorts with my camp's logo on them. "I can fit into YOUR pants now!" I was shocked. He looked like a moron, but his message was clear. I remember thinking, "Aren't you supposed to be like, on MY side?", or something like that. Maybe I was ten years old. Another instance took place around that time. There was a girl in the neighborhood that had had a huge crush on me when we were both about seven years old. She used to sneak me into her bedroom and we'd hide UNDER her canopy bed. Then she'd give me all these little kisses all over my face. It was kind of fun, but I was too young to really be that into it. Yes, girls mature faster. Since that time I had put on weight. I was walking through the neighborhood and I passed "Becky" and her friend. I heard her whisper something to her friend. Then she said something to me, kind of insulting, don't rememeber what. "Didn't you use to like me?", I said. "Yeah, that was before you got FAT!". Ugh, kids. The final image exists only in a photograph. In the picture, I was 13 and going to camp again. I'm standing in front of my dad's car with my shirt held up so you can see my stomach. I still don't remember it being taken. But I'm pretty sure my father was planning it for a "before and after" picture showing how I'd lost weight at camp. This picture is actually in the scrapbook at my father's house. I think next time I visit, I'll put it on the fridge or something!
This is my story... My compulsive overeating began in early childhood. My Parents weren't happy. My Father worked away and when he was around, he was physically abusive to my Mother. It was the Seventies... My Mother was either too afraid to leave my Dad, or too afraid to be alone in the world. I loved my Dad... I was Daddy's little girl who didn't quite understand that my Mother was being hit by the idol Father whom I loved. My Mother began to resent me. She was chubby, My Mother's Sister was chubby. I ate my little heart out. Sometimes we didn't have enough on the table. I would eat my lunch on the bus ride to school, and then starve the rest of the day. After school I would eat whatever I could find. I began to gain weight. I became the Fat chubby kid who looked different from everybody else. The kids at school never let me live it down. But I wasn't going to give in to their shallow little minds. I was a good girl, who cared if I was fat? (My Mother) My Mother took me and my brothers Swimming at a public school pool. My Mother sat on the bleachers on the other side of the glass. She sat there with other people, while I happily swam in the pool. I did swan dives off of the diving board. It was such a great night! On the way home, my Mother told me that as she was sitting there on the bleachers she listened to teen aged boys point me out and verbally make fun of me. They thought that the Fat girl in the polka dotted swimsuit was hilarious. She wanted me to know that she felt embarrassed, and that she wanted me to seriously consider losing weight. I never told my Mother that she hurt me, more than she could have ever understood. I was her thirteen year old "Chubby" daughter... and she just sat there and let those boys verbally make fun of me in front of her. She didn't stand up for me, she didn't acknowledge that she was my Mother. She didn't say a word. She just sat there. I felt sorry for myself that night. Sorry that I didn't have a Mother that would defend me. I felt more sorry for her though, because even though I would soon forgive her... I would never forget. I never have. I grew bigger through the years... and after high school I ballooned well over 200-250 lbs... I now am over 300lbs. No, it's not my Mother's fault. But I don't have a strong relationship with her, or my Dad... or my Brothers. I'm the Fat Girl... yes, it's true. But this is something that life has to accept. I am beautiful and a very kind hearted and caring individual. And I still long for A Mother's unconditional love. ~Polka Dots
This is my story... MY MOTHER IS ALWAYS PUTTING SO MUCH PRESSURE ON ME ABOUT MY WEIGHT BUT WHAT SHE DOESN'T NOTICE IS THAT THE MORE SHE HURTS MY FEELINGS THE MORE I GAIN WEIGHT. I JUST WANT TO BE A SIZE 10 I'M A SIZE 16-18 IT WOULD MAKE MY LIFE SO MUCH EASIER.
This is my story... I have been chubby for as long as I can remember. I have pictures of me and my identical twin from when we were little babies and we were fat little babies! We sure were cute though.. I grew up with my twin and a few older siblings. We I was the only real chubby one, and I hated it. I got into sports like swimming, diving, biking and soccer when I was in about 6th-8th grade and I lost a lot of weight. I was so thin! I didn't even realize it though. When I look at pictures of me at the pool from my freshman year of high school, I am shocked. You can see the bones in my legs, my totally flat stomach and my thin little arms. How did I think I was fat then?? Now here I am, 24 years old, 5'3" tall and a horrible 170 pounds. I look in the mirror every day and cry. My older sister is gorgeous. She modeled for Abercrombie and Fitch while in college..that is how pretty and perfect she is. She supports me, and knows I am fat, and tells me all the time that she will exercise with me. It is so hard though. I hate it so much. I am not sure if my weight problem is because of the physical and mental abuse I had as a child, or the fact that I was denied things I wanted. I was allowed one Mt. Dew a day growing up. I would try to sneak some in from out of the house, because it was "Bad" for me. I used to nurse a single can all day long in my bedroom. It was such a simple pleasure, but it meant a lot to me know. I don't know why exactly I am so fat, but I want to lose it. I am tired of the back aches. (I kneel in front of my desk at work sometimes instead of sitting in a chair because my tummy is so large and it hurts.) I am tired of sucking in my stomach to fit into a pair of jeans. I want to wear sexy nighties for my husband without turning red in the face. I want somebody to look at my face when I speak instead of my stomach. I dream for the day that somebody will accept me for who I am, whether I am fat or not.
This is my story... I remember being a "normal" sized little girl. I was in gymnastics and other kinds of dance and as I grew a little bit older I remember slowly growing into becoming the largest girl in my dance classes. I was eventually steered away from ballet and gymnastics and placed into jazz classes, where I was picked to play the lion in our production of The Wizard of Oz. I eventually quit when the humiliation and snickering got too intense. I started playing softball at age 10. The coaches would only put me in the outfield because I "didn't have enough speed" to be in the infield, even though I practised constantly to get better. I was called names, poked at, and eventually quit that as well. I became totally inactive and alienated from my body and am still fighting to this day the urge to forget that I live inside my physical body. In the seventh grade, my weight was about 160 at 5'3''. I was constantly ridiculed and the names were thrown at me every day. Two of my friends were about the same size and we bonded in our strength in numbers. We started a guitar band and the kids called us "the orchas" and pushed us down in the hallways. We survived it together and I thank God for them to this day for being there for me to talk me out of my suicidal thoughts, as I also did for them. My mother meant well but she would tell me that I wasn't aloud to eat anything except at mealtime and she would pack my lunch for school with celery and carrots only. If she would catch me sneak a snack she would make remarks in like "Do you want to be fat?!" I eventually turned to hate and pain after being such a happy child. I cried every day, cut myself constantly, began writing dark poetry and withdrawing from family and school. When I got to high school I even took up cocaine because I'd heard it would make me thinner. I eventually stopped eating and would do aerobic tapes over and over again every night before bed until I would pass out on the floor and sleep there all night. This was intentional- I would set my alarm clock for school the next morning before starting the tape. I lost 35 pounds in 3 months this way and was told over and over how great I looked by my friends and classmates and especially my mom. "Keep it up!" I heard again and again as a reminder that I was still not thin enough and that if I ever stopped this pattern I would fall back into the fat. Eventually, I gave up, gained the weight back and learned to live with myself. I went up to 180 pounds by the end of last year (my third year in college) and lost 20 naturally (WITHOUT DIETING) after moving to a city a few months ago and changing into a busy lifestyle. I am again at the weight I hated so much in high school but this time I think I'm just fine. I am still sensitive and feel self conscious and second-best at times but I honestly love myself and my body. I began to do martial arts and even dance again recently- even with a big belly. I actually used it to my advantage last year in a belly dancing course. I'm working this summer with kids and even leading positive body image discussions but I always feel that twinge of self-doubt before I fight it off. It's been a constant struggle but I am currently winning.
This is my story... This is my story.......I am a 12-yr-old, 170Ilb somethin girl.I've hated my weight.....since i can remember.My family wasn't and still isn't a big help at all. My brothers would always call me names like fatso and my sister,each time we got in a fight she would say "atleast i'm not the one who weighs more than her mom and sister."That hurt so much to hear. Everyone teased my weight.I didn't like myself or my weight. Everytime someone would say I needed to loose weight they said I'm just trying to help you, and they really weren't. They just criticized me.Once in 5th grade(now I'm a rising 7th grader)my teacher was talking about depression and stuff like that and she said most people who eat a lot are likely the ones to be lonely. SO there I guessed was my answer of why I was so fat, it was b-cuz i was lonely, it kind of made sense except for the fact that I had two younger bros. and 1older sister, but like I told you, they're not a big help.I sometimes regret being born and wishing I had a different family. Everytime I went out w/ my mom,and her friends and my sister all my moms' friends would say to my sister "o my god you lost so much weight,how do u do it?"They say it right in front of me and just look at me in disgust. I feel my parents regret and are disgusted of having a over-weight child.NO guys have liked me because of how big i am and the fact that i'm muslim.That just shows how rasist SOME people can be, others are like family.Except mine. If you have any information for me of how to lose weight.....please tell me!Thank you for reading my story.
This is my story... Right now, if I was to say what I think was the thing I heard the most when I was young is "You've got a beautiful face but you have to lose wieght." I was told this my mother about once a week, by my aunt about every weekend, by my father at every deep disscusion we had and by close family friends at every social gathering.I began gaining wieght when I was allowed to select what I wanted to eat, when my mother "loosened the reins". I overate to say the least. By the time I was in fifth grade, I hated my self and the skinny girls who flaunted everything. Most of all, I hated my family life. At home, there was always some ultimately unsuccessful diet. From Wieght Watchers (which I quit by convincing my mother to skip meets escalating to stopping altoghther) to strict meal restrictions. The most painful one was when my mother and I walked from our apartment home to my aunt's about a mile away. I detested that walk, showing off my wieght while watching people comfortably drive in their cars with air conditioning and radio while I trudged along in the South Floridian heat, making forced conversion with my mother. And my God, the pain. My back ached, my feet got blisters, the back of my legs burned and the air polluted by car exhaust caused headaches. Then, on the following Monday, after about a week of this terrible procedure, my mother summoned me onto the scale. After just a week of painfull walking and heavy meal regulation, I lost five pounds. I remember that as one of the happiest moments of my childhood life. The happiest was when I realized that I wasn't only a fat person. I was smart, a good friend and daughter, an espiring writer and a thoughtful person. Being fat was only one part of myself and if there was one bad part, there were thirty other good things.
This is my story... My story is going to be somewhat different compared to most here. I'm now 19, and have between a slender to average build. However, between the ages of 9 to 15 I was chubby, at one point a fat kid. I never topped any scales though, the heaviest I ever weighed was about 195 lbs at 13. Its very odd, my father's side of the family, well, just my father anyways, had a similar problem. We both began as very thin children, however as puberty begins to set in it seems one of our changes is we gain weight out of nowhere. However I gained extra weight during this time because this was a difficult time for me. My parents had serious financial problems, which took their toll. We had to move many times. I've never once in my life ever lived in a place for more than 2 to 3 years, so I've never had a chance to really settle down, and at one point I became completely enclosed to all others at school. That, and I could sense the apathy within the household often, as my mother and step father went into a deep depression due to their financial failure (which for their sakes I'll keep under wraps). But I love my family, deep down even in my closed off time I still did feverishly. They never have once made fun of me for my weight. My mother would sometimes poke a harmless joke at it, but it was mostly playful stuff that never hurt, I did the same to her often, but never anything traumatizing (looking at how big I was, I can never find the right words to describe my gratitude to them for that) Instead, they offered a much more logical and open minded view of it, they viewed it in a realistic unbiased way. What I mean is that well, my family (both sides) have always had a unique stature, we're an artsy family. ;) All of us believe that the concept of human beauty has been somewhat warped my today's media. While thin people can be beautiful in any form, they can also be ugly. Chubby and fat people can be beautiful as well, but can also be ugly. Its all a matter of perspective, I bet tons of so called "anti-fat" people have a secret admiration for them, but are a afraid to show it due to social pressures. Cowardice, plain and simple. At one point, my parents, although still burdened (though with my father's help over in Japan, they had an even better start), we have a concept that there's no point in toiling and indulging in misery and pessimisim (well, unless you actually like to). Whats the point? So they carried on, a little earlier I did the same. At school, I decided I wanted to get to know people, to make an impression. So I started with one, and through this time I went through so many changes, changes that haven't stopped until last summer. During the first months my natural chub completely dissapeared, just like my father. I had some left over fat still, but neither my mother, step father, or my father ever through negative commentary about it. Instead, they just said that if you want to lose it, just do it. If you don't, or can't, then what does it matter? Just do what you feel is right. I completely forgot about the chub for a while, and naturally took up a love of running and martial arts. Within 3 months, I am as I am now. But I can so see that if I was pressured even more, the battle would have either been much harder, or I'd be heavy still. The point to all this? I felt I was the ugliest thing on earth during this time, and I got my share of "fat ass" and "buhdda boy". But while the world would do whatever, my family supported me with a clear view of myself. They reminded me that I have an artistic gift and am very sharp and optimistic. And chubby guys can be cute in a different way than thin guys, but essentially the idea is the same. But at the same time, they kept it open, by saying the dangers of getting too big, and letting it warp my mind. Essentially, all it is is oil in you're skin, thats it. It can't decide the kind of things you're capable of, only you can do that. Despite hard times, they gave me an irreplacable gift in that while the world may riticule me if I am to be a chubby kid, I was one of them, and wouldn't be treated any different. This put a realistic optimism in my mind that helps me to realize that you can be optimistic and adventurous, while still knowing the dangers and pain that may lie ahead. If I stayed fat, my mind set wouldn't be any different. Remember this with you're children, if you're afraid of them becoming obese or fat, or chubby. Sometimes its natural, sometimes its not. You're job is too keep them safe and strengthen their minds. No matter what variation I'm positive you're child will come out with a powerful heart. Beauty can come in so many different ways, we all deep down know this, however society today is very narrow viewed about that, and only the most daring step out of that. It shouldn't be that way, and I think it could definitely change. But no matter how tolerant society becomes or not, there will always be someone who will riticule you. However, its in the same vein as someone insulting you for you're religion, or you're race, or your attitude. They do it just because it impulses them. Try to change that if you can, if not, then if you know in you're heart that you're a great person, fat or not, then thats all you need. That alone could change people in itself. Remember, plain can be pretty, round can be pretty too. Its all about finding the true perspective of things. This is what my family taught me, my cousin who is 246 lbs at 17 knows this through me as well, and knows this too. When you know this, people will for some reason acknowledge you even if they don't have a high opinion of fat. Thats because he proved himself a worthy person to know, as himself. In the end, while society, ignorant people, and plain idiots may riticule it, through all of that bull it really doesn't matter what you look like as long as you project something from yourself that inspires others, and its not usually solid. Life is so open, there's so many right ways to view things, others, and yourself, you'll know when you truly come to it. Yeah, I talk alot. ^^; Its mostly just ideals, but my family instilled this sense of openess in me. Parents, grand parents, and any family have so much more power over the future than they tend to know. Even if you come from a broken family, keep this in mind and hold on to it when your time comes.
This is my story... Here's my story. About age 4, my parents divorced, and I went to live with my grandparents, mother visited occasionally. We are from the south, and my grandmother cooked "southern". I was fed everything from ketchup & mayo sandwiches to sticks of butter. It's what I had learned to eat. I gained weighed quickly. I remember being around 10 years old, playing softball. I knew I was a little heavier than some, but it took seeing the team picture that I realized I was the largest. Weighing about 150 lbs. when I was around 10. But before that, my Dad remarried and my step mother became obsessed with my weight, making it so much more obvious to me. My brother took after my mom, petite, thin no matter what he ate. Me, tall, "big-boned", big appetite. Funny thing, before my weight bothered everyone else, it never bothered me so much. I was very active, but became less active because of depression. I remember so many times, not being able to have a slice of a birthday cake, or having my meals portioned. On the other hand though, I wasn't able to leave the table unless my plate was cleaned. That still baffles me as an adult. I had to eat exactly what I was given, when I was given it, but then was critisized. My Dad and I are so much alike. Tall, big framed, big appetite, he never complained about my weight. When my preteen years came, I was diagnosed with scoliosis and had to wear a back brace. The brace was so tight, I couldn't eat very much. I lost so much weight I looked anorexic. I was told that too. All the time, "you look awful", "you should eat something, you're as skinny as a rail". I battled depression off and on through high school. Gained weight depending on the situation. My looks were always such an importance in my life. If I had gained weight, I was unhappy & depressed. If I lost weight, I was praised & loved more. I learned that love was not unconditional. I believe now, as an overweight adult, that I became a topic to discuss. My weight was in every conversation, every holiday meal, every gathering. Getting dressed in the morning wasn't about fashion, or what looked nice, it was about concealing. Growing up feeling you have to conceal your body is an awful thing to go through. Feeling like your personality was never important, your life events weren't important, only your weight loss or gain. I have being very overweight as a child & adult, and I've also been very thin. I know now that being healthy is important. But I can honestly say that it doesn't matter whether I am thin or fat, my weight will ALWAYS be an issue to my family, and to me. I am 28 years old now, happily married with two children. My husband and I are both overweight, my children are not. I have moved a good distance from my family, and each time I visit them, I feel like I'm being examined, disected. This past Thanksgiving, while standing in line for dinner, I was asked my an aunt, "how much weight have you lost?" It's funny too, everyone wants to discuss with me their weight problems. I still have the desire, as an adult, to lose a lot of weight, and be able to say to them, "look at me now". But I know that isn't the reason to lose the weight. I am facing problems with depression as an adult because of my weight history. Society has made thin beautiful. My 8 year old daughter sees that. My husband sees it too. He's so sweet though, he tells me I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. He says he doesn't see the fat. It even bothers me for us to go sometimes, to eat, to the mall, or to the beach. I know that most places I go, I will be one of the heaviest women there. Thin people stand out so much more to me than they should. I wish I could go back to when I was younger, knowing what I know now. It's funny, I was always told as a child, "learn from your mistakes". The way it should have been told to me, "learn from our mistakes". Thank you for all who listened, and for all who shared. God Bless.
This is my story... I haven't always been a fat kid. I was pretty skinny until puberty hit me and then I started gaining weight. I'm a natural athelete and was involved in several sports, just as the fat girl. I was in track, basketball, volleyball, golf, etc, but I never could lose the weight. My mother (also a large person) would always tell me that if I just didn't eat as much that I'd be fine. Ha! I only eat 1500 calories a day and I jog 30 minutes everyday just because I enjoy jogging. I'm now 5'4, 190 lbs, 19 years old and can outrun, outhit, out play and out perform most of the "skinny" girls out there. So maybe I can't wear Abercrombie and Finch...so what?! Anywho, my mother has always bothered me about my weight. She even went to far as to encourage me to become anorexic for a while so that I could lose the weight and then I'd be able to keep it at that (my weight is extremely stable). So I tried it, you know, make Mommy happy, and I did lose 40 lbs, but gained it back due to being extremly depressed for about 2 years. Now I'm back, kicking butt, and laughing at my mother because I have a wonderful boyfriend who loves me and could care less about my dress size!
This is my story... Well I come from a Greek family of five girls. In our younger days we were all plump children that always loved to finish off moms cooking; or was it we were forced too? I remember all my other cousins, the kids at school being smaller, and more athletic than I was. My mom began when I was little trying to put me on diets to lose weight. I can remember all the names I was called and how I wasn't as active as I know I could of been because of me being a fat child. There were times where my parents would talk to other parents about me, and I always remember them saying "Don't worry, it is only baby-fat she'll grow out of it"! Little did they know, I didn't. Now, that I am 18, my mom continues to strive for me to be thin. I do not want to be thin, I just want to be happy. I know that the person I am right now is amazing, although I could better myself by losing a few pounds. I always question my self "Am I going to be the same person I am after I lose weight?" While I see others who have gone through changes and not only change their body, they change their personality which isn't pretty. My mom doesn't reliaze that the more she pressures me into lossing weight, the fatter I feel. I go out and get dressed up as thin people do. I get asked out, complimented, and loved. Why is it so hard to understand that being fat isn't as bad as people put it? I feel that I have accomplished a lot within my life even at the age of 18, and I am content with myself. I know that one day in the near future I'll start taking better care of myself and get fit. However, everyone needs to know that people live their own lives for a reason. Not to make others happy, not to impress the world with what they've got, but to accomplish a task that they are here for to complete. I know my mom does it out love, but when your a kid and you get pressured and outcasted so quick, it leaves a scar with you forever. I hope that teens that feel the same way as I do, understand that God gave us what we have for a reason, and God gives all of us a challenge that we can handle and get through.
This is my story... I'm 5'0" and 105 pounds. I've never been much skinnier or much fatter. Medically, I'm not considered overweight. You may not think I know what it’s like to be overweight. But I know what it’s like to be called “fat, fathead, lardbutt, fat pig, etc.” My brother, who has always been underweight, always makes fun of my weight. He’s convinced that I am an obese pig, and he’s starting to convince me, too. He always says that I’m so disgusting I deserve to die. He says I don’t have any friends because I’m so fat and revolting and people want to kill me and so on. When my underweight cousin came to visit me for the summer, he started making fun of me, too. My cousin, this perfect stranger whom I had never met before in m life, was calling me fat. It wasn’t just a kid, like my brother, making fun of me either. This cousin was thirty years old. I told my dad to make him stop, but it didn’t stop. I was tortured all summer. At that time, I was about 110 pounds. Still not overweight medically, but enough to be called fat. No one made fun of me at school, but the torment I received at home was enough to make up for it. My mother, while she never actually made fun of me or anything, always encouraged me to lose weight instead of helping me feel better about myself. After that, I started to diet. I got on this diet roller coaster that I can’t seem to get off of. Dieting is always on my mind. All I ever think about is food and exercise. I’ve been as low as 96 and as high as 112. My weight is constantly going up and down, which can’t be good for my body. Everything reminds me that I’m too fat, and food mocks me. I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare. And my brother still calls me fat.
This is my story... I was never fat as a child. I was not always very skinny though. I have pictures of myself at around 7 or 8 at Disney World and I am amazed at how skinny I look. But ever since I was little I loved to eat and my parent's called me the buddah belly when I was little because my belly was somewhat big. I have no recolection of this except from what I've heard. I've always been a normal sized child and I see that now, but from the time I was about 11 or 12 I've seen myself as fat. There were skinny skinny people in my class whom I wanted to be like. Then one day at a pool party at my aunts house my dad commented that I was getting a bit of a belly. A harmless, perceivably helpful comment, but from that moment on I learned to be disgusted with myself. Even before that I would go on silly diets all the time. My mom and my two aunts were always going on diets and I emulated their behavior. I was not fat, I was not even overweight, I was perfectly normal. But I loathed my body. I started running track in the 8th grade and my body went from normal to slim. After track I gained back the 5 or 10 pounds I had lost and hated myself again. I began to skip meals alot and eat less and less. That wasn't a bad thing until I went too far with it. You see I've alwasy been an extreme person and I never do anything in moderation. I went on fasts and crazy calorie restricting diets where I would sometimes go on only 200 calories a day and then eat nothing the next day. It wasn't healthy and I dropped down from 105 to about 90 pounds in less then 2 weeks. I finally got so weak I couldn't stand because I would get dizzy and light-headed and it scared me so I quit it. Still to this day I'm a calorie counter and I'll go from eating what I want one week to eating bread and water the next. I don't know if I could be clinically classified as anorexic, but I know that this psychological inferiority complex will probably always be with me. Please, don't tell you're children that they're fat. Tell them they're beautiful amd strong. Build they're self-confidence instead of smashing it because anorexia is just as deadly as obesity.
This is my story... This is actually a poem that I wrote for my father, describing the way he made me fell as an overweight child. If you have any comments, please feel free to look me up on aol im or yahoo under Scotianygirl23 Father The person you see is different from the person inside. The outside is a front hiding all of the pain and anger. As I say I love you to cover up all the years of mental torture. You don’t recall the things you had said and did; your alcohol abuse helped you not to remember. The hurt, the pain, the ugly person I once saw I see again. The nightmares of the verbal torture that dance and scream in my sleep. The anger and hatred that I hold inside my heart, my soul, and my memory. The rage that swells up inside of me yearning to unleash itself on you, to tell you the three words its been longing to say forever “I hate you”. To let the truth come out and introduce itself to you, to let you feel the verbal torture that you put me through. 19yrs later you would expect it to have gone away, but it’s back and eating at my soul. When I tell you I love you, I can feel my stomach knot as I push back the real way I feel for you. Those days when you came to me just to let me know how fat I was, how I would try to wrap myself into a little ball so you couldn’t see me. How every time you raise your voice I wonder if you are going to come after me with insults. Now when you yell at me I have this feeling in my heart of wanting not to hide myself but of wanting to hit you, to yell at you, to tell you I hate you. I wait that one-day you will decide to leave and never look back. Every night I wish upon a star hoping that bright delicate star in the sky will make everything better. The couple of years or months throughout these 19yrs that were actually good will never make-up for those years of pain that I and my mother have suffered through with you being so close. At night I try and dream the happiest dream. A life without the evilness of you…your demon within drifting away. Wondering if this dream of pure bliss will ever be fulfilled. No one knows the pain I am feeling inside, the pain that has and is eating at the insides of my soul. If I were allowed to tell you one thing, one thing without being punished for it, I would tell you how I have been feeling for the past 19yrs. The one way that my life has been tortured. I hate you, hate you for all the pain, all the anguish, and all of the bad memories I have of my childhood. These are the last words I would ever say to you if I could.
This is my story... Why do I have to be The One?? Yesterday I read in the NY Times that DNA is probably much more a factor in "overweight" (even more than we already suspected). But oh, the cringing sense of physical discomfort, the desire to disappear...it will never go away. In some terribly way, I seem to be addicted to the sense of detachment or unreality that comes over me when, after having spent a day feeling very able to resist overeating, I end up stuffing myself with whatever isn't nailed down at home, after 7 PM. I seem to be split in two, one part of me helplessly, frightened, while watching the other part of me eat as though there were no such things as calories in whatever I am filling myself -- last night it was handfuls of Animal Crackers, of all things. Usually it is some kind of bread or crackers with peanut butter. Sometimes oatmeal with sugar, butter...the usual substitute for cookie dough, even though I haven't made cookies or cakes or pies in years, decades even. I don't allow myself to have brown sugar in the place, nor potato chips, store-bought cookies, etc. I would become morbidly obese very quickly, I'm sure. And somehow, the eating of sweets is the closest I can come to a sense of love emanating from my mother...that's the only way I could really please her, was by eating her pastries (at which she excelled in baking), even though I knew I would pay the price later. That would be when she was grousing about having to make all my fat clothes because I had no waistline and couldn't wear a skirt and keep a blouse tucked into it. Wore jeans for "chubbies," all the other degradation of not being like the other kids. What was WRONG with me, anyway?? What's wrong with me now? I've had years of therapy, spent thousands, stopped biting my fingernails: but I still haven't isolated the millisecond wherein I let go of myself and go into that split state of my mind just watching my frustrated body feeding itself. I remember my mother taking my waist measurement in front of a friend (I must have been about 10 yrs. old), and announcing that my waistline was 32 inches. Well, once I was thin and pretty -- aged 5 -- but then "something happened," and Mother took me to have all my hair cut off short, started sewing dresses for me that were totally matronly, etc. -- in other words, I was desexualized. It was a painful, eerie experience. The good news is that I managed to rise above it for the most part and not clam up and die socially. There was some part of my intelligence that just kept my chin up and made me keep my spirits up, if only for the sake of others around me, because I knew my pain would only be a huge drag if I expressed it. Mind you, I wasn't a class clown, I just kept my mind on my abilities, to read, make grades, appreciate beauty, etc. Although today I look like a golf ball poised on a tee, I still know to remain cheerful, and then nobody really cares if I'm overweight. But the deal is, I myself care so very much....
This is my story... Reading all the stories of the pain inflicted on children by "well meaning" family members makes my heart ache just as real as it was when I too was the victim of this familial theorpy. I have so many stories I could write for days, but I'll just share 1 today. I was a fat kid. I'm sure it had a lot to do with divorced parents who never really understood that there might be a need for some counseling, a philandering father with a god complex due to his position of small town doctor, and a step mother who HATED me because I resembled my mother. I have come to realize in adulthood that I was emotionally abused and neglected as a child. Food was always the easiest target for my father and step monster, so obvious and double the impact because it was a comentary on both my worthlessness and my mother's parenting. My father was embarressed to be seen with me and so the every other weekend I spent with him was a torture wrapped in a nightmere with a frosting of degridation for extra punch. Ironically enough my brother and I were frequently left to our own to scrounge for food, sneak things - Lord forbid you took something from the pantry cause it wasn't ours. More often than not Dad and Step monster would sleep the entire day on a saturday after morning office hours. Breakfast was usually a soda and a hostess treat on the drive in. Lunch was slept through so we didn't get any. Dinner was often as late as 9 because they had slept or fought all day. It's a wonder I didn't loose any weight- maybe that was the plan all along. I would pack/sneak things from home in my weekend case - cooking chocolate, jar of pickle slices, sleeve of crackers- just so I could eat something. I still have a bit of hoarding behavior today. The most degrading single event that I can remember was the Easter I was about 11 or 12. My step siblings were there ( rare since they often visited their father on weekends), we were all excited to get Easter Baskets. Sitting on the table were five baskets ladden with treats and goodies and chocolate and sugar of all sorts. My mind was racing with the glory of it, the trading and exploring, as I approached the table and saw one basket was different. My basket had a stuffed animal like the rest, but no treats or chocolate. My basket was stuffed with raw carrots, a few wilted celery sticks, and a huge bottle of TAB Cola. My Easter was low cal and publicly humiliating. I cried the rest of the morning and I remember that my Dad may have had a hint of remorse for it, but that was soon remedied when we were sent home early because I would ruin the family gathering that night.
This is my story... I was an incredibly active child - when I was healthy. My mom always referred to me as the "million dollar child" as my immune system seems to have the performance standard of a Yugo. Needless to say, this has lead to more than average time spent sick in bed, and has possibly contributed to the ballooning protrusion that is my backside for more than two decades. (I might, however, note that I have the same body type as my father and his mother...but genetics has apparently become entirely passe in discussing weight ;) ) Needless to say, this left my petite little mother incredibly confused. How could her soccer-playing, tree-climbing, bike-riding, swimming, jumping, hyperactive little Panda Bear get so ridiculously girthy? We never ate out, mom always cooked from scratch and forced veggies down our throats with a voracity that would startle most hyenas. So she did the only thing that she knew how - she took me to the doctor and had them run all sorts of tests on me to figure out what the hell was wrong with my skin that it seemed to retain so much more blubber beneath it than everyone elses. My metabolism was fine, on the low end, but over-all in a normal range. My thyroid was functioning at a normal level. Everything seemed great and dandy. No medical emergencies for this little girl! At long last, I had made a trip to the doctors office and recieved a clean bill of health. Or so I thought. But, upon hearing this in the doctors office, my mother went ballistic on me and screamed that she had known from the beginning that this was my fault - that I was sneaking food and that I was a lazy glutton. Oh, and she had evidence. She had opened a tub of cool-whip to discover that most of it had been eaten. Nevermind that I knew it had been eaten over the top of some strawberry shortcakes that my dad had made for myself, my brother, and the neighbor girls and neglected to tell my mother about. I was eight years old. I started my first diet the next day. Slimfast is disgusting enough when you're 18 and drinking it out of your own desire to defecate you way to thinness. When you're 8 years old and forced to take it to school as your lunch, it is a downright punishment. It's even more of a punishment when your principal takes it away from you and forces you to get "hot lunch" which you then have to go home and explain to your mother. Don't get me wrong. Aside from this incident my mother and I have maintained a great relationship. And lord knows, if she hadn't constantly been at my neck about my weight, I probably wouldn't have pushed myself to work as hard as I did at other things, and I probably wouldn't be in gradschool at the moment. It's best described as a need to feel like my mother thought I was a worthwile person, rather than a lazy glutton with an eating disorder. I'm sure she'd be shocked to hear that. She loves me too much to even stand the thought of me thinking that way. But here's the disturbing part of this wonderfully one-sided tale of an overly plump child. When I actually DID develop an eating disorder, there was never any rush to the hospital. I was rewarded by having $500 of new clothes bought for me. Keep in mind, no one knew for years. But I knew, and that wonderfully mixed message about "good" and "bad" eating disorders formed itself in my head, as I was lauded for being so much "healthier" than I had been. Four years later I have gotten myself back to what I consider a "healthy" point. I'm still overweight by BMI standards, but I work out daily and eat a diet that that has a tendency to really annoy my husband, who has a a bizzare aversion to all things green. I still catch flak from my mom about my weight every now and again, but these days she's more interested in competition dieting with her friends (what IS the baby-boomers obsession with fad diets??) than worrying about me, as she's now ill more often than I am. To parents who may read this, and to parents who have posted here looking for help with their fat children, here is some simple advice: DON'T send your children the message that their life will be magically better if they are thin, or treat weight loss differently than you treat weight gain. If you want your kids to be healthy, then encourage healthy habits. Cook dinner yourself, go for family bike rides, take active vacations. If your kid is still fat, at least you know that they are eating well and are active. When you start to promote thinness as a goal rather than health, you set off all kinds of emotional trauma that children aren't ready to deal with. 12 year olds don't have the emotional stability to realize that you still love them even if you don't like their body. Their body is a part of them, and if you're constantly telling them its not right, they will inevitably believe that THEY are not right. And please please please don't ever send them to school with a can of Slimfast for lunch.
This is my story... I read many of the stories on this page, but I reached the point where I couldn't read any more. Is it really possible that my childhood (and in particular, my family) was some sort of fantasy? My family is great. Although nobody ignored weight as a relative concept, nobody insulted or persecuted me for my size. Ever. If I took it upon myself to lose weight (which nearly every girl in America does at one point, whether or not she's "unthin"), my family was supportive and hopeful for my success. But they NEVER urged me to do it, NEVER pestered me about it, NEVER teased or mocked or belittled me. My parents believed in me and everything I was capable of accomplishing, and knew that none of it had anything to do with my body size. I participated in a million activities (my father was the town recreation director -- which means I grew up doing sports of all kinds), and I enjoyed a fruitful and happy childhood all the way into my college years. The world outside my family was harsher. I could certainly write my story in the other categories of this site. Classmates, neighbors, school nurses, family doctors, various rude adults... there's always someone happy to verbally abuse a fat person. It was BECAUSE of my loving, supportive, and nonjudgmental family that I was able to withstand the slings and arrows of life's bullies. I'm still fat. I've been healthy all my life. And I'm fortunate to love and be loved by an incredible family (including the wonderful man who married me nine years ago). Please, please, please tell me that there are others like me out there!
This is my story... I suppose I was never really fat. It didn't click with me until recently. Growing up, my parents always called me beautiful. My friends never called me fat; my guy friends even told me I was hot. I didn't believe them. The one whose opinion I valued above all was my older brother's. Big mistake. I proved to be a very ignorant girl. My brother wasn't the saint I thought he was, and he took to calling me fat. It makes me dumb, i know. A stupid girl. But it got worse. My brothe always told me I needed to lose weight. My clothes were too big. he convinced me that my arms were fat and that I had a double chin--- looking back I had neither. But my blind obedience to my big brother med me to believe that i WAS fat. He told me that mom and dad didn't call me fat to my face because i was their daughter, and they didn't want to hurt me. The same with my friends. My brother manipulated me into believing that everyone in my school called me fat behind my back. This went on for five years. The only time anyone convinced me otherwise was when counceling proved my brother to be mentally unstable. Maybe it makes me that way too, considering how willing i was to believe him. Some thing good came out of all of it though. I have never discriminated against anyone for weight or otherwise. I don't even joke about others weights. Sometimes I look in the mirror and still see what my brother imprinted on my mind. The the ones who really love me tell me the truth.
This is my story... “Come on! It’s just a little bit further- you can do this!” “I just… need to rest for a while.” I say as I stumble off the side of the trail, slinging my pack to the ground and sitting beside it. My father’s face gets fuzzy around the edges as I concentrate on breathing as normally as I can. The scouts are gathering around, staring at us. “We’re almost there! It’s stupid to give up now!” “I’m not giving up…. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up later.” My father looks around at the nine boys standing around, then leads them on up the mountain. I put my arms across my knees and stare at the dirt between my feet, taking tiny sips of air so the others won’t make fun of me. Tears gather in my eyes, and I rub them away with my wrists. Finally my brother catches up, and sits beside me, hanging his arm from my shoulders and glaring at the other boys. After an eternity, the last boy disappears around the bend in the trail. “Okay” Says my brother, and his hand starts rubbing on my back. I lean my head back and concentrate on breathing- trying to force air past the cotton bunched in my windpipe. I wheeze, I cough, I cry, and finally it eases. Still wheezing slightly, I stand up and lift my pack to my shoulders. “Go on ahead, I’ll catch up.” I say to my brother. He puts his hands on my shoulders and stares, concerned, into my eyes; then turns and hurries up the trail. Alone now, I can take my time. I can listen to the forest; the wind, the birds. I can walk, I don’t have to march faster than I am comfortable going. I get to the top and it is a beautiful view. I can see our campsite down by the lake at the base of the valley. My father walks up and stands beside me. “See? It wasn’t that hard.” I smile up at him, then look back at the lake. From up here I can see that it’s crescent shaped, and what we had thought was an island is a peninsula. Two people are fishing on the shore, hoping for trout, probably catching debris, if anything. Our campsite is the only wide part of the shore, twenty tents scattered in a field behind a rocky beach. I can see my mother sitting in a camp chair, her feet propped up on a log by the fire. She didn’t want to come on this hike this morning. Maybe I should have stayed behind with her. My father rounds up all the boys and announces that, as the slowest walker, I am to lead the way back to the camp. All the boys groan and roll their eyes at me. I hurry through the crowd to the head of the trail and start walking. Maybe they won’t see how red my face is. Maybe they won’t see me crying. I set a pace that’s much too fast for me; my boots slip on the path; really it’s more of a controlled fall than a hike. Soon it’s less controlled and more falling, and I end up on my butt, picking rocks out of my palms. Once again, the scouts start to pass me up, until my father shouts at them to stop. He helps me to my feet and leads me to the head of the group again, then returns to the back. My legs hurt, my hands burn. Doesn’t he see how hard this is for me? I just want them to go on ahead of me. I know the way back, there’s only the one trail to follow. I keep walking, staring at the ground, trying to hide the sounds of my breathing. I go at a more comfortable pace this time, trying to ignore the complaints from behind me, just trying to stay upright. My father starts singing a song, some old rock song that everybody knows. Some of the boys join in. He shouts ahead that everyone should sing. I ignore them, concentrating on walking, concentrating on breathing. I’m not trying to hide it anymore, I openly wheeze with every step. I’m now racing my body to the camp. Will I collapse here or in my tent? After about four choruses, the path flattens out, and the camp is visible just around the next bend. The scouts hurry past me, shoving and teasing each other. I skirt around the edge of the campsite and find my tent. I unzip the door and throw my pack inside, then crawl in and curl up on my side. I wake up to someone scratching at the roof of the tent. I peek my head out and smile at my brother. “Hey, it’s dinnertime. We’re gonna have spaghetti.” “Thanks,” I say, then crawl out and stand. “How are you feeling?” I borrow one of my father’s phrases; “Like I’ve been rode hard and put up wet.” He chuckles a little, then asks “Are you sure you’re alright?” “Yeah, I’m fine” I say as we walk toward the fire. I smile at my father and sit beside my mother. She tousles my hair and leans in to kiss my cheek. “Did you have a good time today?” “Yeah, it was alright, but I fell.” I answer her, showing my skinned hands. “You’d better wash up before dinner.” I walk to the edge of the camp, where a jug of water is tied to a tree. I squeeze a little soap from the tube tied to the handle and wash my hands. I go to my tent and get my flashlight and my dinner utensils; a collapsible cup, a plate and a spork. I return to the fire and sit beside my mother again. Dinner is finally ready and we all pass our plates to my father. He spoons rehydrated something into each dish. It tastes like the spaghetti they serve in the school cafeteria- plain noodles and tomato paste, but I eat it. After dinner we rinse our dishes, then hand them off to the boys doing dishes tonight. The rest of us return to the fire. The older boys tell stories and jokes they heard on other camping trips. I’ve heard most of them before, but I still laugh. The dishwashers return and my parents get out the popcorn and the marshmallows. I spear two marshmallows on my skewer and stick it in the hottest part of the fire. I smile as they catch fire and hold my skewer up, admiring the blue flames swirling around them. I blow the flames out when both marshmallows are burned, then wait while they cool. I see my father staring at me across the flames. “Are you sure you want both of those? Don’t you want to share with your brother?” I manage to keep my smile on my face as I shake my head, then I look back at my marshmallows. I quickly pull one off and chew. My mouth’s too dry, it only tastes like charcoal to me. I quickly shove the other one in my mouth and swish some water around to chase the taste away. My mother smiles at me and smoothes my hair. “Do you want some of my popcorn, honey?” I shake my head and lean against her side. Once everybody has what they want, my father sits forward and tells a story to the group. It’s one of my favorites, I’ve read the book he got it from. He’s a great storyteller, his voice rises and falls, finding the rhythm of the words as he speaks them, building tension until he reaches the conclusion. We all smile and clap, then he offers the marshmallow bag around to everybody but me. He doesn’t offer me the bag, but I smile and say “No thank you,” then excuse myself and go back to my tent. I crawl in and take off my boots, then crawl into my sleeping bag and shove the material against my mouth as I cry, as quietly as I can, until I fall asleep.
This is my story... I lucked out, really. I was fiercely independent (still am) which helped with the fat-shaming I got from my mom and brothers, and one of my half-sisters was very supportive. My mom meant well, I know. She didn't want me to go through what she apparently was. I watched her yo-yo diet off and on again for years. She still is. I ate what the rest of the family did and realized that I actually ate less when I found out that both of my brothers and my mom had stashes of sweets (this was when she wasn't on another diet). This didn't stop comments like "If you just lost a few inches from your waist, you could have a perfect hourglass figure" from my mom, nor my brothers from telling me point-blank that the only reason I was voted in as Prom Queen was because no one liked the other girl in the running. When we did the BMI in a junior high health class, I immediately thought it was worthless because another girl I knew very well who was boyish-shaped and got made fun of for being flat-chested (which was a very obvious genetic trait, if you saw her brother, or her mother) was the same height I was and I had recently been told that big breasts ran through my mom's side of the family. If BMI didn't take into account genetic disparities like breast size in women, how accurate could it really be? When my mom suggested I diet, I refused up until college, when I did it mostly because I wanted an excuse to see her every other week at the Weight Watcher's meeting. As soon as she stopped going, I did as well. I honestly hadn't tried very hard at the diet thing, sticking to the upper ranges and trying to fit my favorite foods into the regimen. I actually gained weight after a brief initial loss and didn't care. It took most of college away from my family before I realized that I'm freaking gorgeous. Yes, I'm fat and that's okay. I'm also lucky that I'm genetically inclined to add fat to my breasts and hips first, everywhere else later. When I point out I'm fat, people flounder and say things like, "Oh, no! You're just... pleasingly plump" or "Well, yes, but you carry it so well!" or something else like that. Going home is still a pain, though. Mom's constantly talking about her current weight-loss. My brothers are obsessing about theirs to the point of getting my dad involved (one is husky and the other one can eat anything and everything without gaining a pound and probably isn't bothering to get his blood pressure and other things checked like he should. He sill worries about weight, though, particularly his wife's and brother's). I'm still trying to figure out how to approach them with Health At Every Size.
This is my story... I didn't have very many friends, I always had a "best" friend, but never a group. I wasn't a joiner, I was shy and probably withdrawn. I remember never wanting to call any attention to myself, because it would usually be negative attention. I didn't join any activities, and sports was definitely out of the question! I remember feeling different from the other girls, I couldn't wear the same clothes, and didn't have a boyfriend, so it seemed there was nothing in common. I remember wanting one of those kilts you pinned with the big safety pin, but back in the sixties they didn't make them in size 24 1/2. I also wanted boots that went up to the knee, but there were none big enough to fit my calves. Clothes are so terribly important when you are a teenager. Bell bottomed jeans, couldn't come close to finding them. I remember buying the largest size men's jeans I could find, and leaving them unbuttoned and unzipped under a long sweater. That was the best I could do then. I made a lot of money as a teenager babysitting since I wasn't dating. When I got to high school I think my friends felt a lot of pressure not to hang with me, and while I could understand why, it still hurt a lot. I think I missed out on a lot in my childhood. Top
From: Kathy
This is my story... Well, as a "fat" infant, child and then teenager, I had gotten "used to" not having clothes fit me and all of the other wonderful things that went along with that. But, to be honest nothing had prepared me for the heart break I was to deal with from Jim Stewart ( not Jimmy).
I was 16 and really into cars. Has a cool '67 Charger( this was back in '74) and my group of friends were into "cruising" and hanging out at Country Kitchen drinking coffee until the *wee* hours of the morning.
By "hanging out "". I met a guy, who went to the other HS and was a year older than I, my group of friends
and this guy kinda clicked. And to be honest I thought he and I did too. We started out just all hanging together, then Jim and I would go *cruising* alone. He liked the * hot cars* too. I had the biggest crush on him. He wasn't the cutest guy I had ever met, or the coolest. But, he just was so sweet( I thought), and had a great smile, this friendship went on for quite a few months( and for a teenager that is a LONG time). We would drive and talk for hours and hours on end. Then one night, we were out in the country , parked
( just talking). and Jim looked at me and told me he needed to tell me something. (OH hope upon hope could it be...did he like me?) He then said the worst thing I have ever had anyone ever say to me...
He said "Kathy, with your personality, if you had a *FOXY* body I would have met my match!" I just sat there and stared at him, not really believing( or wanting to believe) what I heard. As a "fat chick", I just shrugged it off and chalked it up to how my life would be. It has taken me many years to come the realization that, If someone chooses to not like me because of my exterior image ...they are the ones missing out on a good thing..NOT me! NOW, I try to live true to this philosophy "The shell may be pleasing to the eye...but it is what the shell encompasses that truly matters. Because as time moves on the shell may fade, but what is inside lives on forever!" Thanks for allowing me to share! Top
From: Big H
This is my story... When I was in third grade this group of girls came up to me and the started calling my Fatty Fatty two by four. I started crying and they started laughing at me. Then my "friend" comes and joins in on the laughing. I hurt me really bad. It just comes to show that true friends come once in a life time. But now I'm in the seventh grade and I have only one really good friend and we have been friends for two years now and I hope the friendship will last for the rest of our lives. That is my story!! Top
From: Rodney
This is my story... Being a the FAT kid in school really was the hardest thing I can imagine a human can go through especially in middle school. I have been overweight all of my life and I gained most of it in middle school which is when I was doing all of my sneaking around and eating and just plain wouldn't stop eating until I was almost or was in fact sick. I had a 48" waist in the 8th grade if that gives you any idea. There was a group that I so wanted to fit into and I did as long as I could be the brunt of their jokes. I would walk into a room and some of them would yell "Where's the Beef?" That would really make me mad and I would just fall into a huge state of depression. My grades went to crap and it took until college to really get them back up. I hated myself and I came close to committing suicide when I was in the 10th grade. The one in memory that sticks with me from middle school was when one of the most popular kids in school Adam Kepler stood up and called me a loser to my face and them proceeded to call me "Beefy" going back to the chant that would be said when I would walk into a room. Since coming to college I have changed myself both physically and emotionally. I began lifting weights thanks to my best friend Russ Cochran and I have had nothing but support for doing all that I have done. Sure I have been dissed by some of the HOT sorority girls here but overall the dates that I have had are wonderful memories. There is hope for any one who wants to lose weight it can be done but it a hard row to hoe and takes discipline and it is still a daily struggle for and will be for the rest of my life. Top
From: Anonymous
This is my story... oh god! It all started in kindergarten. A new girl came into our class. Skinny as thread! I was sitting by friends, I doubt they even knew what the word "fat" was, but she taught them.
Kindergarten : New girl , know a LP, was evil. I was just hanging on the fence and suddenly I was being pushed down by a lot of girls. They were LP's friends. They would do what every she told them to.
I was pushed about 30 times, never able to get up.
I scraped both my knees, elbows, and hands. I told the teacher on LP, but she didn't believe me. She said I was jealous cause she was an angel. That happened everyday till the middle of second grade when I beat her up.
Sixth grade : My and my friend, known as Sx, had a fight. I mean the usual, your stupid, know you are thing. Then she said:
At least I don't need less food, more diets! Slim Fast, Jenny Craig, or Richard Simmons.
I'm in the 8th grade now, well going to the 8th grade. And I have a friend. He was fat, but kinda cute. I saw him last week, he lost weight in a month. I lost only one pound in a month. Now I am one out of two fat kids in my school. But no one says anything about me anymore really, on about the other girl. So I am pushed to the side, so no one notices me being fat. Top
From: fat
This is my story... I was fat everybody made fun of me except for my friend. She was nice. I went to her cousins house an she was talking behind my back. Top
From: Anonymous
This is my story... As a child, I was nice, funny, and fat. And that combination made me perhaps the most vulnerable kid my age I knew. I had been both accepted (invited to parties and sporting events in friends' backyards) and rejected (picked last on teams, called "fatso" as I played) by my peers.
So thrilled I was for having been invited to anything AT ALL considering my appearance, I found myself berated, in public, even by my closest of "friends." One time in seventh grade an older boy decided to call me fat the whole way home on the bus. As I waited for my stop, hiding in my seat, embarrassed, and afraid I might cry, I hoped that my best friend, seated right behind me would jump up to my defense. Instead, he jumped up and ripped on me as well, having obviously decided that being friends with the other, older, thinner boy would do more for him socially than I could. And since I had made it clear to my friends that I would come back for more, he didn't really risk losing my friendship at all.
And then I grew up. I placed limits on how others could treat me. I lost some weight, but was still heavy, but disallowed anyone from thinking I was less than them. Suddenly, my sense of humor and kindness made me among the more popular kids in school. As for my "close friend" on the bus, I explained that once he "walked away from me, he could keep on walking."
Being fat isn't a crime, and it doesn't make you gross. But you can't make anyone think more of you, or treat you the way you deserve to be treated, until you think more of you, and treat yourself with the respect you hope for from other people. Top
From: Topaz2576
This is my story... The only thing I really remember about being a fat child is that I was always alone, it always was bad when you were in gym class and of course they had to pick teams, and of course I was always the one standing there left and nobody wanted to pick me. as for clothes, I never had any that were popular so I really never did fit in. very depressing, even now as a fat adult, I really have no friends, I suffer from depression and an eating disorder. I hope some day kids will learn to be nice. Top
From: Chubbygirl
This is my story... I started to gain weight when I was about 11 years old. A neighbor and I had gotten into an argument over a neighborhood boy because he liked me and didn't like her. It's all very juvenile now that I recall the whole experience. This child had a lot of influence over the other children. For two years no one in my neighborhood talked to me. No one spoke, waved or even looked my way. As you can imagine, enormous depression set in and I was devastated at how my life had turned out. At the age of 11, there are so many things that are in front of you and a whole life ahead of you. All I wanted was to die. There was eventually a "stand-off" at my house and it was me and my parents standing up to the whole neighborhood. These people called me fat and ugly and they called us poor. All of these things were true.
After about 2 years, one person in the neighborhood started to talk to me. It was like I had been set free. It wasn't an option to switch schools because of the small size of our town. I gained about 50-60 lbs. in only 4 years. It was a slippery slop and even as an adult I battle with my weight. I am now a size 18 and I have been on a constant diet for a year. I work out constantly and watch what I eat. The weight is coming off slowly but surely. Being fat has ruined my life and taken away my youth. I hate this feeling. Top
From: Amana
This is my story... I am 12 years old. I weight 215lbs but I don't have a problem with friends and am writing this to explain to people with a bit af body weight that not all people are mean. I live in new york and go to a public school. I have many many friends, I have 5 best friends and have even gone out with a boy since 5th grade. I am what I call big beautiful and happy I have many friends so for all you people who get picked on and have little friends remember this NOT ALL PEOPLE ARE LIKE THAT!!!!! Top
From: Sarah
This is my story... well.....surprisingly enough my life as a "fat kid" hasn't been all that bad.....<my life has been miserable, but the fat factor has/had nothing to do with it>I have a unique sense of humor which draws the friends in, I find my self being referred to as "popular"....of course, when it comes to sports I'm always picked last, but that's only to be expected <lol>.......there is only one thing I can say affects me negatively <which relates to me being "fat"> would have to be the way I'm accepted<or not> by prospective mates...........but I suppose that's typical.... Top
From: Letty
This is my story... I am very, very fat and my best friend, who although curvy is in no way fat but insists she is, always insists it doesn't affect our friendship. I know that she's biased against fat people though, because when we're out she'll say something like "look at the size of that" or "I can't stand so-and-so, she's so fat it's disgusting." I think we'd get on a lot better if I was thin. Being fat has caused a lot of disagreements, eg. when she wants to go out somewhere and I won't come with her because she can wear nice clothes whereas mine look as if they came from "Tents R Us". Even so, true friends do not care if you weigh 200 pounds. They care about YOU! Top
From: Katie,Liu
This is my story... Well my problem is or was that I was obese. Know alot of people are, I know that now. But I did get teased a lot, I mean a lot. My friends wouldn't hang with me, cos there was bullies that would start on them if they hanged with me. I was ashamed of being fat, I wanted to be a human again....just I didn't know how.... Top
From: Natalie
This is my story... Oh..where do I start...I guess (as I remember) the making fun of has started since the 1st grade..ud think the same people would get old of me telling me i need to fat and i need to lose weight, blah..i guess not since its been happening for my whole childhood...1st grade..i remember being 30 lbs overweight...my skinny friend was 40 and i was 70...i guess it never affected me back then..cuz i was little..and u dont really think about those kind of things bothering you at the time..then in 5th grade..i remember my cousin giving me a diet plan...ever since the first grade i tried going on diets..because of what people say to me..its quite disturbing...calling 7 year olds fat and that they need to lose weight...well my parents r from a diff. country..we visit it every 4 years...every time i go there, they have a nickname for me..and it means chubby...we had to go last year..i cried my eyes out for most of the vacation(2 months) let me tell you what some people have said to me..."They have pretty face, too bad their body ruins it"...i dunno that was kinda harsh..my grandma was telling me how i should try to lose weight and be my sisters size..I HATE being compared to people..and stupid comments like..ull break the bed, or..my cousin had to sit in the back w/ me and my sister and shes like I CANT SIT IN THE BACK! theyre too fat! theres no room! u know..comments like that have been shoved in my face for nearly...10 years..i am now 16..and still very hurt by it..hey ..i even tried committing suicide in the 8th grade..then this year i took an overdose...i knew it wouldnt kill me, i didnt even try killing myself..just to take out the anger and hurt from all those years..my mom found out about it, she said she was gunna take me to the doctors to get my blood checked..ha guess who didnt take me? exactly, i was mad at my friends for telling hte counselors..oh well, i cant even think to a time where i was even happy, how pathetic is that? yeah...i was on a roll for exercising for abouta week..lost 5 lbs..but now i quit...i have a great bf..that tried helping me w/ it, cuz he knows how much i hurt ...but i quit...and i hate my life, i hate being like this, everyday i ask the question..why me? what did i do? all my friends r freakin twigs..i hate hanging out w/ them cuz my self esteem goes down to hell...its horrible, and i hate being like this..no one knows how i feel, theres no one that i can really totally relate to...my dad made it worse this year too..i ran away for a day twice..oh wel, i got grounded..i was crying a lot cuz they were yelling at me, etc, not getting into it..and then my dad got so mad that he said i could kill myself..ha..oh well, whatever, wouldnt he be sorry if i died..maybe, i dunno, oh well...i life is a drama and i hate my life and everything in it except my bf..and that's my story : ) Top
From: Kayli
This is my story... I am going to be a freshmen this next year and I weigh 152 lbs. My whole life I have been overweight. I love playing sports like basketball, soccer, and tennis despite my size. I am currently second string on the basketball team, a starter on the soccer team, and #1 on the tennis team. Though I have never been the fastest, I am certainly the strongest. I also love school, and am number one in my class of 200. My fellow students do not make fun of me because they have respect for me and realize although I may not be the prettiest or the skinniest, I have better grades and a better serve. My life has not been a piece of cake though. I am part of the so called "popular crowd" and am constantly sorrounded by beautiful girls and their hot boyfriends. One of my friends is the so-called hottest girl in school and constantly has self-esteem problems. I always have to listen to her complain about how fat she is and how she hasn't eaten in three days. Just hearing this bringin me to tears thinking if she, who weighs 40 lbs. less than me, is fat, then what am I? Top
From: Jessica
This is my story... When I was a child I had great tons of friends. I was always invited to little partys and was really popular. Around 10 years old, I started to gain weight and then we moved...I gained a lot of weight and didn't have any friends at my new school. I remember one of the cute boys in class would always stare at me and puff his cheeks out to make fun of me. That was 6th grade. The summer after that year I went on a diet with my aunt and lost about 60 pounds. Then we moved again. I was starting middle school and with my new body, nobody made fun of me. I had tons of friends and lots of boyfriends. Everyone always told me how pretty I was, and what a great figure I had. With all the attention, I forgot about the diets and started to gain weight again. Only a little, and nobody really noticed. I was still popular through 9th grade...and now it is the summer before my sophomore year in high school and I have lost weight again, looking better than ever. My friends have been very supportive, and boyfriends, still not a problem. Losing weight is not that hard! You just have to find the right friends and stick with them. If they are good friends, they will be there for you and support you even if you get a little chunky! Top
From: Stephanie
This is my story... I can relate to every story on this website because I was the fattest kid in class, got teased all the time and beat up sometimes too, and on top of it all I had family members who were ashamed of me for my weight (my parents were very supportive, but my grandparents made me miserable). Being an only child and having difficulty making friends because of my weight caused me to rely on myself for my own source of friendship and peace. I went through the pain of rejection from my peers and learned early on that people can be shallow so I lost interest in making friends until later in life. Sometimes you cry so much that you reach a point where you can't cry anymore...then you become calloused...then you search your soul...then you rebuild your self esteem. All this takes time, however, and adolesence is not an easy time to work on this. As a loner, I became my own best friend and smile every day knowing that no one can touch my self esteem. Let the fools call me names if it makes them laugh...I really wouldn't want a shallow friend anyway, so it's better that they show their true colors up front. This was a long, slow process...but I stopped trying to impress other people a long time ago and learned to say "forget them all". I was very introverted for a long time, but not for fear of rejection...I was just disgusted with people in general and their presence got on my nerves :-) With time and maturity, I outgrew this though. I am lucky to have found 3 dear friends who have been very close with me for almost 15 years now. They're very mature, deep thinking people and I love them like my own family. I guess the moral of my story is that being fat has taught me how to look out for myself. It made me isolated for a long time, but I used that time to discover who I am. I consider myself fortunate to have been the "fat" kid because it's taught me compassion for people in pain, patience, self love, and the importance of taking care of my own needs first.
My life motto:
No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
This is my story... What can I say I've always been a little Chubby. My mom used to tell me I was just big boned, but I was fat, plain and simple. Unlike other kids i was unable to participate in sports, so I took to musical instruments and the band. It was there I found my true love the Clarinet. I was constantly harrassed by my peers for being a male clarinetist, I was idolized by my band mates. They used to Call me Fast Freddy. When I went to college I continued to excell with my instrument but could not stop my constant cravings for food. I once begged a friend for food when i had no money on my card and he called me fat. I almost felt like crying, but now i have gotten over this and play my clarinet professionally and have never been happier. So no matter what hand life deals you, if you work hard it will turn out ok. Top
From: Anonymous
This is my story... When I was young I had one best friend. We were both fairly at a good weight for our age, certainly not overweight. Most kids saw our friendship and decided they’d have no chance becoming part of our ‘group’. Most people didn’t like me because I was the smartest child in the class and they felt inferior.
When my best friend moved away, I was constantly by myself in the 2nd grade. Then 3rd grade came and my friend moved back. She was even in my class. Things started to get better and we were both about the same fine size.
4th grade came and I wasn’t in her class. To me, it didn’t seem that big of a problem because we’d be in the same recess. No luck. She wasn’t in the same recess and so I found myself sitting on the grass often reading or drawing waiting until recess was over. I didn’t have anyone to play with. Sometimes, I would play soccer, which was a sport I was good at considering I played on a soccer team in the 3rd grade.
In the 5th grade, I was in my friend’s class but she had more friends. She went to work to introduce me to them, some of them I didn’t get a long with great. I’m not sure when it happened, but around that time I had started to put on lots of weight after being so lonely. My friend’s friends weren’t very accustomed hanging with a large kid, as most of them were skinny. But they saw through that and we became really great friends. All five of us would do neat things together and always be invited to each other’s parties. But after I got my braces sometime in April of the 5th grade, I was starting to weight 5-10 pounds overweight. Through the 6th grade, I kept gaining weight due to my braces, suddenly finding myself at 27 pounds overweight. Soon I jumped up to 37 pounds but made an effort of loosing weight during the summer. I started exercising more and lost a few pounds but just gained it again.
During the summer, I was invited to go to the mall with 2 of my friends to clothes shop. I hate shopping. It’s not like I can’t find any clothes, but the clothes I find are not stylish. But even when I was younger and skinny, I never cared about fashion. I think my friends were starting to become embarrassed with my looks. They didn’t like doing things with me because of my weight. They never mentioned it to me, never said I needed to lose weight, but it seemed like they dropped reminders of it to me unintentionally.
I got tired of always hearing them complain about weight. They made jokes about the fat kids in our grade (kids who were bigger than me) and I really disapproved of that.
I found I was maturing faster than any of them. They were still being rude and bullied the kids who were large. I hated how they made fun of them. They always, however, did the teasing behind the person’s back so they would never find out. They are too cowardly to tell the person. I’ve always been the one to stick up for the person, knowing that they never did anything to my friends and they just wanted to be left alone.
Probably a good reason I never got teased so much as I should have was because of the goals I accomplished in school. I got a medal for reading over 100 books, got straight As on my report cards, I was just a plainly smart person. My parents and teachers were extremely proud of me. I hadn’t gotten even a B+ on a report card in over 3 years.
But gym was a nightmare. We were never graded in gym, but when I got my last report card which was only days ago, I found that I had been graded in gym and received a B+. I thought it wasn’t fair, that a person shouldn’t be graded on their physical ability. I must admit, I’m not very athletic and that’s due to my weight. I’m a slow runner and never really participated in any major sports. But I’m going to go back to school next year with weight lost, a new wardrobe, and new thoughts about people who are overweight. And I know my friends still won’t care about how I look because they’re my friends. Top
From: Kristi
This is my story... I remember the exact moment that I realized I was different from the other kids, that I was fat and that it was bad to be fat. I was about 5 years old, and my mother had enrolled me in swimming lessons at the YMCA. There was a small group of us, possibly 8 or so. We were taken to the shallow end of the pool, where the dives blocks were placed for the youth swim teams. We were instructed to line up single file, and one by one climb up on a dive block, and jump into the water, where one of the "instructors" waited to catch us in the water. My turn came to jump. I climbed to the top of the dive block, stood up straight, and looked down at the man, (he was really no more than a teenager, but at that time he seemed to be like my parents--an adult). He started to chuckle and looked at the two other "instructors" and said, "Oh God!". The other instructors laughed and laughed for a good while, probably only a few seconds, but it seemed like forever. I didn't jump into the water. I looked around at everyone, climbed off the block, and went to sit by the wall. I cried and cried. When lessons were over, I went inside to my waiting mother who was angry with me for not jumping in the water. Of course she didn't see what had taken place, and I didn't even try to tell her, because my humiliation was too great. I recalled this story to her a few years back, and she admonished me, saying that my "childs memory" wasn't accurate, and that I must have imagined the laughing. But I didn't imagine it, it was very real. I was a fat kid, and am now a fat adult, and I struggle every second of every day with hatred of my body and its flaws and defects. I hate everything about myself, from the fat that encases me, to the insanity I feel because I can not get a grip on these emotions, to the lowest of low self esteem. I have met a wonderful man, via the internet, and although he knows I am not thin or beautiful, he says he loves me for me, the me inside and not the body that houses me. I do not believe him, although I want to so badly. I am going to be with him in only 19 days, and I am so afraid that he will reject me once he meets me in person, that he will take back all the kind words and reassurances, and see that I'm not any of those things because I am fat. To be fat is a curse, and I can't imagine what crimes I've committed in a past life to deserve a sentance of this magnitude. I am trying to force myself to be more positive, and learn to love myself, but to be honest I don't see what there is to love, because all the goodness in the world can't make me attractive or appealing, and if I can't be that on the outside, it doesn't matter what's on the inside. When you're fat nobody sees the you on the inside, only the you on the outside. People assume that when you're fat, you're lazy, you're stupid, you're incapable, you're unacceptable. I suppose I only reinforce this by believing it as well, but I've felt this way for so long, I don't know if I can change the way I feel. I don't know that I am strong enough to overcome this. And I'm tired of fighting it. Top
From: Fat and alternative
This is my story... I am a self-identified femnist, fat activist, and punk rocker. As you read this I'm sure that you all know the prejudice you must face being fat. But I also agreed with NONE of the conventional mainstream Ideas. I had/have a wonderful friend who loved me in every way possible. We listened to the same music and agreed on a lot of things but she is a fat hater. When ever I'm out with her sometimes a chubby/fat person will walk by and she'll say thimgs like: "Look at the size of Him/her!" or "Eeeeww!" and even things like; "God they're so disgusting!". It always makes me sad because I know how they feel. It also makes me wonder; if those other people are so 'ugly' and 'disgusting' why does she accept me? Top
This is my story... I don't really know when I became fat, but somewhere in elementary school I became the fat kid. It didn't help that I was also the kid with braces and glasses. Luckily I tried to hold my head high and ignore all of the taunts, but with a name like Hattie there is only so much you can ignore. I endured, "Fatty Hattie two by four, can't get through the kitchen door" and that wasn't just by the kids at school. My family could be just as cruel. My dad would say things like that to me all of the time. My mom would see a full-figured bride in the paper who wasn't very pretty and would say, "Well, there is still hope for you!". I spent a lot of my elementary years obsessing about food. What I would eat, when I would eat, how much I would eat, what it would taste like. I had friends amazingly and even boyfriends, so I don't guess I had it too bad, but I knew that I was fat and I hated that word...still do to be honest. I can remember wanting to wear certain clothes that were the in style and being told by the sales clerk, "Honey, we don't make them in your size." When I got to jr high I tried out for cheerleading, but I didn't make it. Later I heard some girls saying that I almost broke the floor when I did the jumps. That did it. I wouldn't eat. I decided that I wasn't going to be fat anymore. I just quit eating. If I ate I threw it up. I walked several miles a day and did sit-ups endlessly. Amazingly, my mother who is a nurse didn't see anything wrong and to this day (15 years later) still doesn't. I made myself thin. Suddenly boys thought I was gorgeous, everyone thought I was "it" and I could wear anything and you know what...I was still the same insecure person inside because of all the cruel remarks. I would only drink water all day, eat 1/2 of a baked potato without anything on it and then I would have to throw that up and then walk three miles and do 200 sit-ups each day. All because I was fat in my own eyes. Because of what I did to my body during that time I ended up having my gallbladder removed during my teen years. I also gained all the weight back and then some. The scars that will never heal though are the ones on the inside. I cringe every time I hear someone put a child down or call them fat...I guess I never will get over what that word and what it means to me has done to me. Top
From: JumboJet
This is my story... Well where to begin is difficult at best, Jumbo Jet as listed for my name is one I acquired in the 3rd grade when I was 9 or 10 years old. We all had nicknames and that was mine. I was the fun fat kid, I always laughed, always had a crowd around me, and I was always really lonely. I still am to this day. Being a fat kid, was hard, I see in the pictures when I was a little girl that I was pretty, then my mom got divorced and we lived on our own, and then a few years later she married, and the man that she married is my step dad, and I dearly love him, but he was an alcoholic, so henceforth , my mother became one too, and it always scared me to see them when they came home. They were never home during the day as they were at work, and they were never home in the evenings, and my mom would always leave us money for whatever every day in the summer, well of course we would buy sweets and candies, and after awhile I craved this stuff, and got bigger and bigger, it was the only time I did not feel lonely. My parents left us alone in the evenings late into the night when they were out drinking. My brother started drinking and drugging at age 14 or 15 and I was little miss perfect, except I was fat and getting more so. I had wonderful grades, and always did everything right, and never acted out. My "Dad" was mean about the fat, he always had some comment to make, and neither one of my parents ever said if they loved us or not, so we never knew. Being fat was my way I guess of protecting myself, and the food was comforting to me, hell it still is...The fat protected me from anyone hurting me again, I had been sexually molested by an older neighbor of ours at age 8 or 9, I can't really remember, but I know it was after that that I felt even more alone, and didn't know what to do with no parents around and a brother that was a slime. I went to school, did everything perfect, was always known for how good my grades were, and I always had a lot of people that hung around me, I even had a couple of boyfriends, and one that I truly loved and still do to this day, he is my best friend, and I found out about 5 years ago that he is gay, but he hasn't changed and he is still my best friend. He loves me no matter how fat I am, and I still can read in my yearbook, how jealous he was that I was getting married to someone else, and that I looked so great those days...because the summer prior to my senior year, I was so sad, and so angry with life, that I lost 60 pounds, all I did was eat peanut butter and bread sandwiches and drink water all summer long, and I rode my bike into town and walked like the dickens to get away from home. When I showed up for school for my senior year, my counselor thought that I was anorexic, my parents never even noticed, because they were not around, and I was made to go to the doctor, but I was ok...I stayed thin until I got married, guess to whom??? a man that was as cold and as distant as my father and a drinker too, surprise not...and we married right after I graduated from High school, he was 11 years older than I was, and my parents supported it, they didn't tell me I should go to college and get a career first, they actually even paid for the wedding...then I had children and then he left, after he left, that lonely feeling went away after I went through a couple of years of counseling, and then I began to loose the fat. I am still fat today, and not very many people are nice about it, but it is me, and I tell people that if they don't like it that is their problem. I was in another relationship for about 3 years, and guess what, abusive...and during and after that one I gained even more weight, so guess what? That layer of fat is still protecting me, and I am still fat, but I am fit, I walk, I work out, and I am a beautiful person, have many dear friends, still no one special enough for a relationship to keep, but I know I am a good person now after years of telling myself that I was no good cause I was fat, and because some man sexually abused me, and I never had the guts to tell anyone...and I ate the pain, as most kids do, especially when their parents are not there for them to talk to and are not there to love them, and do so willingly and openly...From my marriage, I have 2 really beautiful kids that are tall and skinny, and I have raised them right, and they hear every day that I LOVE THEM, and they have nutritional meals, and snacks within reason, not TOO MUCH free time on their hands, and we have a rule of at least once a day no matter what, we have a sit down family meal. If nothing else, my being a fat kid and going through what I had to go through aka the abuse, and the distant parents, bad relationships....I have done ONE THING, I have STOPPED the CHAIN with my children..........and I am proud of that. Thanks for letting me ramble. I appreciate this site so much. Cat you are super! Top
From: lesa
This is my story... I happened upon this web site and was stunned at the picture of the little girl in the pink tutu. She could have been me. I'm obese, by even the most generous standards, and I've been obese since about 7 or 8. I've seen pictures of me at 5 or 6 with my thin, gorgeous cousin, and my legs and body are just as small as hers. I don't know what happened. I think maybe food was used as a reward in my household. It was the way we were shown affection, without any affectionate words being spoken. Those times I was given snacks was the only direct attention I got. The snacks came from my dad, who is also obese. So maybe I associate food with rewards. I only know it tastes good, and I'm apparently missing the mechanism in my brain that tells me "you're full." I found it once, though. Through phen-fen, the wonder drug. Using phen-fen, I went from 248 pounds to 174 pounds in about six months. Oh, you couldn't believe how much nicer people treated me. I went home for a family reunion, and you'd have sworn I'd won the lottery. Mom was full of compliments, and so was dad. My brother, who at one time hung pictures of fat people all over the fridge as a deterrent, was raving about me. I was feeling good and exercising, too. The weight just fell off. Then they pulled it, and my world caved in. The weight, all of it, came back within four months, and I suffered the additional blow of being the one who "lost so much weight only to gain it all back again - what's wrong with her!!!" Now I'm back in my huge body, and I can't stop eating because I never get full, and because it all tastes so good. I've given up. I just make some attempts to be kind to my body, but they don't result in any concrete changes. The worst of it is that I got married last year to a wonderful guy (whom I met during the phen-fen period, of course) and now that I'm huge again, I feel I've cheated him. He deserves someone else. I'm a failure at life, love, and everything else that counts. All because of my inability to stop eating. I would gladly take phen-fen again, even if there was a 50/50 probability that I'd develop heart problems. Weighing 174 was the only time in my life I recall feeling even remotely human and a little attractive. I know I'm pretty, but who can see it with my fat face and huge fat rolls dripping off me? It's a sad way to live. Being fat is something I don't want, but can't fight it. I've considered getting my stomach stapled, but I know I'd just get hungry and eat until I burst every single stitch. I don't want to judge others or tell them how to live, but for me, fat is not working. It's unhealthy and it damn sure isn't attractive! I see pictures of myself on my wedding day and just cringe. I don't look pretty - I look inflated and puffy. It's just sad. Top
Well, at least while I was growing up. I, too, learned to bear the burdens and stigmas that society attaches to "fat" people for a relatively brief, but formative period in my life.
As happens to many of us as we approach and pass through puberty or other growth spurts as a child, I found myself becoming one of the "fat kids" at about 5th grade and stayed in that group until about my freshman year of high school. During that period, I became acutely aware of what it meant to be singled out, sometimes shunned, sometimes made the butt of jokes and pranks, and acquainted with the cruelty that my "normal" classmates could sometimes exercise, just to make sure that I knew my place in the pecking order of adolescent society.
I also learned the limitations of adult society as well. Grownups could be insensitive or just stupid about what they they might say to me or my parents. I learned that adults did not always consider a fat kid's needs to belong to his peer group at this age important at all as I ended up with "fat kids" clothes, which in the 1950s, were rather obviously different and styles compared to what our classmates might choose as the "in" thing to be accepted. From many different quarters the inherent message was that "chubbys" or "Fattys" were marginal members of society, at best. As long as we knew our place as defined by the "majority", we could be tolerated, but not always welcomed into the mainstream.
As anyone who has lived through early adolescence knows, difference from the norm can be a painful isolation, or at the very least, a source of real frustration. Many folks would not see you as worthy, capable, or desirable to be associated with. If you are lucky, as I think I was, you learn to cherish the friends and relationships that are offered you without the prejudice or reservation. And, if you are lucky, you have a nurturing from somewhere - at home, school, friends, somewhere. A nurturing that sees past the limitations or difference imposed by the lotteries of life.
I was lucky enough to have had some good friends and adults who accepted me for who I was, and a family who did the same. I consider my parents to have been pretty remarkable people for their time and probably outside the mainstream of American values in their ability to set an example of tolerance and genuine acceptance of all sorts of people into their lives. Some of that unconditional love helped me to realize that although society and my classmates might not have the capacity to include me, there were people who did and who worked at it. These were, and still are, the people I seek, regardless of the situation I may find myself in or the lot that Life draws for me from time to time.
I eventually grew out of being a "fat kid". But as I changed, I realized that the same forces of ignorance, exclusion, and petty assumptions were alive and well, regardless of the targeted issue. The discriminations now arose from different issues than just body size or shape, but frankly the source was the same - a mindless conformity, a heartless insecurity. Had I not gone through my "fatty" period and when I did, I might not have coped as well, or had my values strengthened when more adult transgressions against decency, tolerance, humanity, intelligence, and yes, even Love were to rear their ugly heads.
It may seem odd to some, but I see a lot of positive things with wide ranging good for the soul that came to me from this experience. I think it made me stronger in ways my unchallenged peers may have never considered. It at least taught me something of human hurtfulness and of human acceptance and compassion; something about finding true value in others, and applying those lessons in shaping my own character and relations with others. It has been a road less traveled, but has made all the difference in my experience since. Top
From: A mother feeling like a failure
This is my story... My daughter is going to be six in one week. Today she weighted in at 85 pounds. As a mother and someone she looks at for support, I feel like a failure. I feel I am killing my little girl. I have had her to a weight doctor, watched her calories, bought her exercise videos and still through it all I have managed to give her that extra piece of candy when she asked. When she said, "Mommy, I'm hungry", I was the one that gave her that extra something. As I sit here writing this, I am crying because I don't want my little girl to be fat! I am so angry at the world for putting so much pressure on people to be skinny! I myself take diet pills everyday because when I was in school I was called fat and it messed me up for life. I cannot let myself gain weight because I remember the names, and how I felt. I told myself I would NEVER have a fat child. My daughter would be small and petite. Well, I have news for you, my daughter is not petite-she is very overweight for her age. I do not love her any less for her size. I hurt for her when I hear kids at school call her fat. I want to help her, but it is so hard to do this on my own. My husband is overweight and does not help on watching her food intake. I feel so alone on my attempt to get her to lose weight. If there is any suggestions please Email me at MAX3567@cs.com. As I end this ,tomorrow I will clean out the cabinets again, start going for walks with her and pray to God for help. I love her very much and want to help her ,but I really don't know what to do. I am so tired of all this ,I just want her to be a happy child that doesn't have to worry how much she weights, or if she can eat that, or if she will be accepted. This is my story, thank you for taking the time to hear me. DG Top
From: Bill
This is my story... It all started in Autumn,1979; while I was a member of a prep league football team. The target weight for all
players was 75lbs.-not a pound more, not a pound less. Yes, my weight has fluctuated if not dramatically at the time. Furthermore, I was not patronized about my excess weight from others until the football season
was over; after which was roughly the starting point of my yo-yo dieting span that endured for several years. I was like 9-1/2 years old within the aforementioned beginning. Throughout subsequent years, not
even friends nor relatives have been supportive examples to me. They all have been gung-ho believers in
weight loss via physical fitness. At the standpoint of my parents' divorce around my 11th birthday, things
have become more tasteless for me. First off, my mother has been wanting to enroll me into a private Christian school, which I did despise to the fullest extent. Yes, the majority of students & faculty have comp-
raised of the ever-arrogant & ever-patronizing thin-oriented society. I was obviously ridiculed by those from both sides of the coin. I hardly ever participated in any extracurricular activities because of this. The
part I despised most was P.E.. The instructor himself was so military-oriented, he literally made me perform more repetitions of fitness drills & relays than the remaining class whenever times were appropriate. During my senior year of the same school, my teacher called my mom up behind my back regarding senior
trip reservations for a Caribbean cruise after I turned down the opportunity. The moment I was notified about the reservations made without my approval, I literally blew my top off to both my mom & my teacher.
Although I have aggressively demanded my name to be removed from the list, the chaperones insisted to
patronize me in working out at the gym aboard the ship. However, I simply refused; especially since my senior year in high school was insurmountably hectic, so I was obviously entitled to relaxation. I was patronized even more when the entire class was at the restaurant. I was having generous helpings of even the most fattening foods(i.e.:pancakes with strawberries/whipped cream, French toast, fried chicken, shrimp cocktail, ice cream & blueberry pie.). The moment I graduated, I vowed to myself never to in-
volve myself into any school reunions of any kind.
Today, however, is still an era for me to really be myself without yield to size or weight. I was actually brought to the realization back in early 1994 as I discovered NAAFA; an organization that actually helped
my self-esteem & persuaded me to finally egress from the carousel of yo-yo dieting. I am now keeping my chin up more than ever! Top
From: Will
This is my story... I'm really not sure how to describe my childhood. I've looked back at pictures from when I was 2 or 3 and thinking, "I was skinny." Throughout elementary school, I was always the biggest kid in class, both in weight and height. I don't remember much teasing from my peers, although I remember one day I was drinking a Diet Coke and this girl said "William's on a diet!" But, I don't remember getting much crap about being fat since I never looked overly large, due to my height. However, I think the change came between 6th and 7th grade. I remember being 5'9" and weighing 180 lbs. I always had to wear adult sized clothes, but I had the right inseam length. I started lifting weights, but then I started gaining weight. I think part of this came from moving from the city where I had all my friends and my basketball leagues, to the country, where I was far away from everyone else. My weight skyrocketed and the next thing I knew, I weighed 253 at the beginning of Jr. High Football. Unfortunately, I didn't try to get in shape and didn't play much in 7th grade. In 8th grade, I had only gained 10 more pounds, plus I had increased my strength, so I played quite a bit. In fact, we won the state Jr. High championship, so I was happy. At least I thought I was. I didn't have many social skills with the opposite sex, plus, since I lived way out in the country and had parents that didn't interact with many people, especially in our community, I ended up staying home, never going anywhere. I began to get taunts from classmates, but they never bugged me much. I did get jumped one day after school for saying I was going to participate in an intramural basketball tournament, but I think it was partly racial. Everything was ok until high school. That's when everything began to hit. Sex, popularity, power, money, drinking... Playing football for a school that was an annual state power was very stressful. Of course, I was put on a strict diet and heavy exercise schedule after I crested the 300 lbs mark after Christmas. I lost 40 lbs over the spring and was soon bench pressing 300lbs, but it wasn't good enough, even at 14. My ROTC instructor tried to get me to take phen-fen, but my mother refused. My coaches kept chiding me about foot speed and weight, but I just couldn't handle it anymore. Shortly into the next season, I quit playing football and working out. Within a year, I had shot past the 300lbs. mark again. I just didn't care. My weight was stable, school was going ok, and I had a girlfriend (my first). Then, suddenly, my girlfriend and I broke up in a very horrible manner, school began to crash like a building falling over, and I began to crack up. I ended up having to transfer schools my senior year to a small private school where all the senior boys ran cross-country since they weighed maybe 160 at the max. I did come out of "retirement" to play football again, but I just didn't care this time. As it came time for college interviews, my mother began to chide me heavily about my weight. Even though she herself is obese, I was still the "lazy good-for-nothing dumb fatass" and it didn't matter that she would eat a sack full of fast food, topped off by 2 bags of chocolate covered peanuts, I was still the one that made it difficult for everyone because I ate her "almost out of house and home!" Now that I'm away at college (on full academic and music scholarship without her having to pay for anything since I wait tables on the weekends) I just don't care. I still have plenty of dates (whenever I have time for them) and don't hear much taunting. (I just flex my muscular 20-inch biceps and they shut up) My mother still chides me about my weight, but now it's just for health reasons (even though I have better blood pressure and cholesterol readings than most of my skinny friends- and I can wait tables for 8 hours at a time standing on my feet and still dance all night long!) I'll let her keep up the charade for awhile, but the moment it gets ugly, I'm cutting myself off from her. I've already done it once, and I still keep a distance. She knows that next time I might do it forever. Top
From: Anonymous
This is my story... I am a fat child. Every time I go on the scale I see those frightening numbers 2-0-1. Yes I weigh 201 lbs. It is sad for a child who is only 11 years old. I get called fatty, fatso and tub o lard. Sure I get hurt but its scary when I get hurt because some of the people who call me names are pretty fat themselves. I Am a male and I have big breasts. Terrible. Just Terrible. Top
From: Reply to "Anonymous"
This is my story... I just read the story from "Anonymous" on the page marked "others", and I felt really bad for him. When I was his age, I was a big kid , too. Anonymous, if you are reading this, I hope it makes you feel a little better that there is someone who knows how you feel. I grew up to be successful in business and I have a beautiful girlfriend. When you grow up and get into the real world, people don't care about your size nearly as much as when you're a kid. Start doing some activities you like and playing some sports, and you will be surprised how easy it is to lose a few extra pounds. Good Luck :) Top
From: Mr. X
This is my story... Over the years, I've realized that being overweight causes you to miss out on so many good things in life. Between all the jokes and the insults that I've gotten lashed at me over the years by many different people, I've had my self confidence greatly reduced. There was one time when I was in sixth grade (I was about 11 years old) and I was swinging on the swing set with my friend. All of the sudden, a kid who I had not even spoken to ever in my life walks up to me and says: "Hey fat boy, have another Twinkie!!". The boy then ran off, and on top of that, my friend sitting on the swing next to me started to laugh at me. When I was in 7th grade, my friend and I were walking home from school and were encountered by two other kids. The kids, who we didn't even know, began insulting my friend (he was made fun a lot as well, although he wasn't too fat, just kind of geeky). They then began to mock me. Supposedly, one of them saw me going on a walk with my older brother to get some exercise. These kids then said that I was desperately trying to get skinny and that I was too fat, blah blah blah, you get the gist of it. It just goes to show you how insensitive and immature kids can be, which causes them to be just plain mean. There have been several encounters like the ones I just talked about, some being worse and others being not so bad. The thing was on most of these occasions I was being made fun of by kids I didn't even know and sometimes by kids that I've never seen before. What hurt the most was being insulted by my family. On one occasion my mom got really mad at me, and in the midst of her yelling she shouted: "...and another thing, you're too fat!!!". My cousins, two in particular, have caused me to feel worse about my weight then anyone else. The thing is that I have always been so nice to them. I haven't given them any reason to get revenge on me in anyway, yet they have poked fun at me many times. The was one time where I was fiddling with my shorts, which had caused a snapping kind of sound. Then, one of my cousins joked: "Is that your bra strap?!". There was another time when I was staying at their house and some of my clothes where laying on the floor outside the room I was sleeping in. All of the sudden, I hear one of my cousins say: "Hey Curt, look at this." I then look over and see him holding my pants. It turns out they were laughing at how wide they were. These were some of several of their insults, and that doesn't even include all the times the have talked about me behind my back. I've tried to shrug my cousin's insults off, but I simply can't. They weren't some random kids that I didn't know, but my family. Next time I see them, (its been over a year), I will definitely state my resentment of their humor. I know I'm kind of whining too much, but unlike other people, I find absolutely NO advantages to being overweight. The extra pounds that I have carried has brought nothing but discomfort and bad memories. Top
From: Jason
This is my story... As long as I can remember I was always the fat kid. In school I got the usual remarks.
Fatty, Fatty two-by-fore, lard ass, whale. In junior high the kids took to yelling
Boom ba ba with every step I took. As a defense I would sometimes join in to make them
think that it didn't bother me, when in fact it always did. At 12 years old I weighed
195. I when I tried my first and only diet. The Richard Simmons Deal-a-meal diet. The
original one with the wallet and playing cards. That lasted about a week. Although I did
lost 10 lbs but Richard assured my that was all water weight in the manual. I did have some
friends in school all of them where outcasts like me. But I wanted to be a cool kid so I
played football. Finally I was getting the respect I deserved for everyone. Until I try to
join in to some of there clicks, Where I was even let in I was treated as the court jester,
There to amuse them but my freakish looks and funny antics. I didn't care I was with the cool
kids. I did see past that after awhile. Never the less I still played football. Hating every day
of practice not understanding what was going on, only playing on 3rd string If I was lucky. Still '
I did get some true respect from some kids because I did push myself even though I thought it was
pointless.
I was shy in high school. It seemed in my high school all the fat kids where painfully introverted
or annoyingly extraverted. I chose the former because I would call less attention me and my ugly body.
I became a science geek. I loved it. I was good at. All rocket lunching, Popular Science reading, Star
Trek collecting bit of it. I made me feel smart and powerful while have a extremely low self image and
getting only average grades. I Still played football and hated it, but I did find a new sport I liked,
Track. Of course I was a shot putter, and threw discus. I was a fat guy, but we all where. Finally a
sport I could do. I love it, I was horrible at it but I LOVE IT. I finally had a sense of accomplishment
and pride. I wasn't winning metals but I improved every week. I rest of school went ok. There where
classes I love and other I hated. The fat insults where few and far between. Maybe because of my sports
involvement, maybe because my self-deprecating defense of insulting myself before others could. Insults or
no I never did fell excepted. I was always very shy rarely talked to anyone outside of my own small group
of friends. I was pining away at girls from afar never having the courage and self worth to talk to them.
Therefore I never dated, never went to prom, never had the social experiences that one should have to prepare
them for life. In my junior year of high school I finally quit football and later diagnosed with dyslexia. I
didn't feel I got a lot out of the special education courses they put me in because I was to shy to ask the
teacher questions. A problem which I still deal with today.
After graduation I when away to college thinking this was going to be it. That was going to be my time
to shine. I would live in a dorm 24 hour a day house of partying. I always wanted to go to a party. I was
right party every weekend, kegger just a couple blocks off campus, or even a BS session in somebody else's room.
And I was in my dorm room staring at the ceiling or watching TV like I always did in high school back home. I wasn't
from any of these events. I just couldn't bring myself to go because I felt If I walked though that door all eyes would
be on me that people would whisper to each other and point to the freak fat boy screaming "Get him out of here." That
I could not have happen. So I politely turned down all offers to go. Soon the offers stopped coming and I blew my second
chance at learning my social graces and never made and lasting friends. I was a lack luster college student, few things
interested me there. My only solace was at work. I worked at a large discount retail store in the college town I was in.
I though my self into my work gathering carts from the parking lot and collecting garbage in the store. The managers there
said they had never had someone work so hard and so well collecting carts and garbage. When I was complemented and would
smile and try to be humble about it try not to call attention to myself. The store was filled with people my age customers
and employees alike and plenty of time to get acquainted with your fellow employees after the doors closed. I was well like
their because I was a hard worker so I could stand around and talk much because I had to work. I real reason was that I didn't
know how to start a conversation. When I try in grade school the other kids to call me a name and run away so how could I here.
After two years of the I dropped out, or rather kick due to bad grades, of college and moved back home. I enrolled in a tech
school and transferred my job at the chain discount store to one in my city. I decided to work hard to get my degree and I did.
I got striate A's in almost all classed and also took a few art classes that I enjoyed. And I worked hard at my job as usual. Never
cultivating new friendship. Why bother my old high school gang was still in town and still the best of buddies one could ask for. Us
outcasts went thought a lot together. Still to shy to talk to girls in a non-business way. But I was well liked in school and work
because I learned hard work brings you respect. That is what I was after all along, wasn't it.
Two more years go buy I graduate, quit the store and find a job out of town to a major metropolitan area. The only place I
could find a job in my field. I move out of mom's house and get my own apartment. Freedom at last. I work nine hours a day come
home and sit and eat gaining even more weight and adding to my already 50 inch belly. I got a second job to help get me out of the
house and to make a little extra money and maybe meet people. So I did. Most Of the people I work with are kind and friendly. I
haven't had a fat insult said to my face in years. I meet new people everyday, I'm good at both of my jobs but It's been a year now.
I still don't have any new friends I feel I can hang out with. I'm 24 and I never have had a serious relationship, I trying to pull
myself out of my seeming to be life long depression. And the only way I know how would be to be more sociable. I just can't get
over that wall of letting my guard down long enough to let people into my life. I fell If I do they would have want nothing to do with
me. Just like in grade school. And all because I was a Fat Kid.
This is my story... I am and always have been fat. High school was the usual torture chamber of fat and ugly, fat and ugly, over and over again. My parents were worried and tried to put me on a diet. I do not blame them, because what else was there for them to do? The doctor told them that was the only solution. Why did I had to have my food taken away? What did I do? In an effort to get me to exercise more, mom signed me up for modern dance class. There I was, short and fat, with the willowy thin dancers. The dance teacher (who was years ahead of her time) made no comment on my weight. She taught me to move and enjoy my body. Now at 250 plus, I do, every day. I also send up a prayer every day to Midge Kretchmer, wherever she is.
If your kids are "fat" or overweight or whatever. get them out there and move. They will bitch and moan and carry on, but once they discover how good it feels and how good they feel, they will thank you all their lives. I know I do. Top
From: mystery advice
This is my story... here is a tip Don't feel bad about being fat and kids won't make fun of you. It's as easy as that Top
From: Becky
This is my story... I never thought of myself as fat until my parents moved us to a "higher class" city when I was 13. I have 4 younger sisters and our parents wanted to give us a "better" life. We went to better schools and had a better house. But moving was the worst thing they could have done for me. The jokes didn't start right away. But I noticed that I wasn't as small as the other girls in my class. The jokes didn't really start until I was in high school. I started to feel ashamed of my body, and even though I had boyfriends, I was afraid to do anything because of my body. At first I didn't understand them. I knew that I didn't weigh 100 pounds, but I was still a cheerleader and I was active. I was 5'5" and I weighed 133 pounds. But the jokes still kept coming. One that will stay with me forever happened in English class. I was in my cheerleading uniform because we had to wear them on the day of games. Were watching a movie and the teacher asked me to turn off the light. As I got up, someone started making pig noises. My life has never been the same. I am now 26, and I weigh 180 lbs. My husband says it doesn't matter, but he doesn't realize that it matters to me. Because of the jokes of a few people, I am now forever ashamed of my body. I have gone down to 160, only to get pregnant and gain it back. I am afraid of what my son will think of me. My mother-in-law means well at times, but she has even made comments that make me run crying to another room. When I got my hair cut short for the first time, her comment was "you look like Rosie O'Donnell".....my comeback should have been a proud one. Rosie is a strong and successful plus size woman. But because of society, I am forever ashamed of the weight that I carry. Do people not realize the comments that they make stay with people forever. That even comments meant in good sometimes come out wrong and make us feel worse than we already do. I don't wish to be a size 3, but I want to be healthy. I want to see my son graduate, and get married. But the worst feeling in the world is feeling that you are not good enough for anyone because of a small group that left a HUGE impact on your self-esteem. I should be a stronger person but I am not, I should be happy with what I have accomplished in my life, but I am not. And all of this comes because people cannot accept others for who they are. The weight that I carry was not asked for. It did not come about because I am lazy, or because I do not eat healthy. I do. My weight is just me. For all of the times that I think that I am fat now. I wish I could go back to when I weighed 133 pounds. I would be proud of myself, and not have let others let me be the butt of their jokes. Maybe if I had stuck up for myself, I would be stronger now. But even though I have my down moments. Being with my husband and son have made me a lot happier. They both love me for who I am. Not for my outside shell. Thank you for listening! Top
From: Adam's Wife
This is my story... In my head, I've got a nice, vampy shape. I've got curves in all the right places, baby. In reality, I'm more apple shape than anything. An apple on toothpicks if you will. Anyway. When I was a kid (and more of a small peach on toothpicks, but still "overweight" to my peers) I was the fat kid. To compound this shame, I was also the smartest kid. Great, fat and smart...the two requirements to being the school reject/class joke. Actually, I used to be the subject of great debate: "Would you marry Sarah or would you die?" "Would you marry Sarah or would you eat poop?" "Would you marry Sarah or would you marry a boy?" My favorite answer had to have been "I would marry Sarah, but then I'd kill her because I don't want to eat poop." Nice. In 5th grade, I was the subject of many poems written by several small-minded boys. (My last name was the same as a famous dog starver from literature) They were about me and my supposed love for pigs' feet, because I was so fat (so fat! I was 5'0" and weighed 80 pounds!), I obviously had to eat everything, regardless of the grossness factor. I tried not to let it bother me, but I developed a serious eating disorder in middle school. Thanks to my mother's intervention, I gained most of the weight back in high school. There I wasn't picked on as much, but I didn't have dates either. I heard recently that one of my male friends had a crush on me but refused to ask me out because he didn't want to date the fat chick. Ouch. I attribute this lack of interest from members of the opposite sex to my obsession with being loved, something that plagued me until college. I was lucky, I caught a break. The last semester of my senior year, I dropped high school in favor of early admission to University. When I came back for graduation, I was forty pounds lighter and nobody recognized me. That was gratifying. Again, the weight came back over the course of a couple of years (with an additional thirty pounds) but I had made friends who liked me for me, and met a man who loved me for me. I found someone who actually loved me and would marry me. I have to admit that I'm a bit vain about my husband. He's very, very good looking and successful, and when I meet a former classmate, I always (even if I hated them) have to go up and introduce them to my husband. I'm still fat, a fact that bothers my husband (more because I am out of shape than my shape in general), but he's been around for my thinnest and fattest days and he still loves me. I am so blessed. I hope every fat girl out there is as lucky as I. Top
From: gully
This is my story... I've been fat since I was 8 years old. It just seemed to happen. I was a very active kid. But as the public censures started, as the whispered criticism began, I knew that I was different. I knew that people thought it was alright to make fun of me and ridicule me because I was fat and that meant there was something wrong with me. When parents, doctors and others discuss you as if you weren't there, mentioning diet, habits, etc., the situation worsens. I have always felt guilty for being me. I've been dieting since I was 8 years old. It doesn't work! I've tried more types of diet programs than I care to think about, spent more money than I care to think about. And none of it worked. Two years ago I started a program on my own of eating healthily and exercising. A back injury derailed that. Now after physiotherapy and mental work I have again started to live in a more healthy and active life. If people want to stare at the "fat girl" working out, I can't do anything about it, except to not let their opinions affect me. I'm feeling better about the whole me. I realize that this is about how you live your life. And I want to go into my senior years feeling well. I will always have the emotional pain with me. I can't change the past , so I'm working on the future. Top
From: Alice
This is my story... I don't remember ever being thin. I had to wear "chubby" clothes. Even our family doctor made fun of me when I went for my annual visits with my two thin brothers. He would call me fatty or chubby! I suppose he thought it would shame me into losing weight. To this day I have phobia about doctors. My self esteem was so low that I though no one would ever love me and at 20 married the first man who asked. He was an abusive, alcoholic, drug addict, which in some ways taught me that I deserved something better. I got so sick in this abusive relationship that I wouldn't eat and lost 40 lbs. in two weeks. I have managed to remain relatively slim by exercise and watching what I eat, but it's always a struggle. If people only knew the damage this abuse does. I am 46 years-old and no matter how thin I get I still think I'm fat. If anyone looks at me I think they are thinking I'm fat. I cringe when I hear my father say to my nephew (who is fat) that he would do anything that involved food. It makes me want to cry. Top
From: Draft Horse
This is my story... I was so tiny and thin at birth that the doctors wouldn't let me go home from the hospital at first. In fact, I was a tiny, thin little thing until age nine, when my body started "developing." I got a belly, hips, and large breasts --- forget the training bra, by age ten I was a B cup.
The first time I ever thought about my weight was at Girl Scout Camp, when my mom, who was volunteering there, introduced me to another mom. At that moment, the snap on the waistband of my jeans popped open --- I was growing out as well as up. The woman looked at me and said "Oh, so *you're* the little girl with the waistband problem." I remembered feeling stung, and not knowing why. But I let it go.
I never really worried about my weight until high school, even though somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware that I was different from the thin girls. But my family are very health and sport oriented, and since we all rode bikes, walked, played soccer, and hiked together with no problems, weight was never an issue. There was even one brief time when I was 12 that my figure was *perfect* --- and I didn't realize that, either.
Why did weight become an issue then? Perhaps it was just teenage awkwardness manifesting through something I could perceive and control. Who knows? Anyway, I remember feeling horrible and awful and fat because I weighed 120 lbs. I felt at 5'3", I shouldn't weigh over 100. I made a resolution to diet down to 75 lbs, because that was the "ideal" weight. That was what all the thin girls must weigh.
At the same time, my family were starting to have problems. I remember my mom and I were dieting at the same time, almost competitively. At one point, she weighed 103, and I weighed 104. I thought I was a horrible cow because I couldn't get to 103.
By the grace of G-d, I never got below that point. But I've been steadily putting on weight since then. I hit a high point of about 180 a few months ago --- which I found out in the emergency room, after having been up all night with gall bladder spasms. Wouldn't you know it? My 17 years of yo-yo dieting have actually done me some pretty serious long-term harm. Fortunately, no surgery was necessary. Things could have been a lot worse (my brother, who also dieted, lost his gall bladder because of it.)
Now I'm off dieting for good. I'm educating myself about nutrition, and returning to the active life I used to lead as a child and in college. Comparing me and my family to the "thin" kids at school, I see that it's not so much a difference between "thin" and "fat," as it is a difference in musculature.
I'm built like a draft horse: sturdy, strong, big. No one says Clydesdales are "fat" and Arabian horses are "thin." Arabians are beautiful, but so are Clydesdales.
My ancestors were built for hard work and lean times. In times past, wispy stick-girls wouldn't live through the winter. But modern life is making it so that the evolutionarily weak are succeeding in the gene pool. Where will this leave the future of our species? Makes me laugh sometimes at how stupid the human race can, collectively, be.
For now, I'm learning to love myself as a Clydesdale, instead of trying to fit into the Arabian saddle class. In fact, there is an entire organization, Team Clydesdale (http://www.teamclydesdale.com), comprised of elite, world-class athletes who are made big. Large people, obese by the height-weight charts, but who nonetheless have achieved elite status in marathon, triathlon, cycling events, swimming, and other sports --- and that's elite by *everyone's* standard, not elite meaning "pretty good for a bunch of fat people." They don't have Clydesdale/Athena classes for martial artists yet (this is my sport), but with my agitation, perhaps they will soon =)
This is my story... My parents divorced when I was 5. Some of my earliest memories are screaming, fighting, contempt, infidelity, revenge...
I never saw my mom after that. Dad was an inattentive workaholic. I grew up with this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was somehow partly to blame for the divorce and complete severance of ties from my mother. There was no affection in my home and I learned to spend a great deal of time alone. I remember the moment I lost control. I had just turned 7. I opened a jar of peanut butter while I was alone in the house and dad was at work. I remember vividly how I devoured it and felt surprised by the compulsiveness in this act. Years later I learned what the word meant as I had a full blown obsessive compulsive disorder. Guilty feeling from the divorce as well as insecurity over my weight led to more and more involuntary solitude. I never had a date in high school. I hated myself and was taunted relentlessly. The thing that keeps me breathing is my desire for love and intimacy. I've never truly had it but it looks so nice in the movies. I lost weight after high school and married the first girl I could find. Needless to say that was a mistake. I gained some weight back and she left me. So another divorce separated me from the women I loved. This time a wife and daughter. I've been fat and alone ever since. 11 years. I sleep alone. I eat alone. I sit at home alone... Its maddening. I try to be social. I have friends. But I never meet a woman that shows the slightest interest. When I show interest it ends abruptly and embarrassingly - every time. I feel totally lost. Being fat has ruined my self esteem, my social life, hindered my career and devastated my love life. Not the life I dreamed of. Top
From: Lynne
This is my story... My Friends,
I, as most of us, could write a book related to all the pain that comes to those of us afflicted by obesity. It is, I believe, a disease that we have no choice in the matter. It is part of the cards we were dealt, so to speak. I spent 35 years overweight. By the age of 35, I weighed in at 310 lbs. Hurting in every aspect of the word. I had been on every diet, fad or otherwise, known to man. I decided to have the Gastroplasty surgery done as a last resort. That was 3 years ago, and today I weigh 110 lbs. soaking wet. I have no skin hanging ( That shows ) and people that I choose to share the story with don't believe me. I have to show before and after pictures and then they say "That's not you!" In the before picture. Well, the reason I'm telling this is because guess what? The hurt doesn't go away! They didn't operate on my brain. Even though people that never knew me before, say things like "You look so pretty Lynne. I wish I was small like you." These are people I work with now that have no clue where I've been and what I bring to the table. They say "How do you keep that cute little figure?" And on and on. Sure these are all nice to hear. And for all my life I dreamed of what it would be like to be "Normal Size" and be accepted. Well the truth is, all that pain from 35 years still haunts me. Remember that the grass is Not always greener. Count your Blessings not your calories!! Top
From: anonymous filipina
This is my story... I was very fat. my fattest was at age 14 when I weighed a whopping 210 pounds! my schoolmates would often tease me and makes me feel out of place, different, a laughing stock. at first, I never cared, but as I mature, it would hurt deeper and deeper till it really marked my heart. At a young age I felt so abused, unlucky and all that despair anyone could get, I remember the nasty faces of the boys who used to laugh at me during summer class, and everyone staring at me as I walk, I felt like dying those times. I would often cry, I wonder how I managed to survive all those nightmares. now, 16 I lost 65 pounds all by myself, naturally more on crash diet. all because of grief, yes, I lost weight but I'm still unhappy, I feel like its still the same, my friend told me that my attitude changed since I lost weight. but they r wrong, this is the real me, I still feel different thou, they probably think I'm boastful of bragging coz I lost weight, some would even spread I used diet pills. heck no! I started to see darkness again, I want to shout. I did not change. all I need is true n sincere love I never ever felt from anybody till now. I'm so lonely, y cant I just live normally? that's all I want. Top
From: Jess
This is my story... Hi, My name is Jess and I am 13 years old. I weight 120lbs and I can't stay on a steady diet! I am tall but for me I have the biggest stomach for a girl! At school I was nominated for the biggest belly! Sometimes I try to think that I am like everyone else but I know that I am not! I have had many boyfriends but All they did was look at my face and ask me out! I know that when a person looks at your face and decides that they like you for your looks that it a bad think! But something did turn out right for once, I have a steady boyfriend that I have been going out with since May and he said to me after I have asked him if he thinks that I am overweight, he said "I will love you for what ever size you are but I love your personality and good looks." That is my story and I am proud that people can except me the way that I am and not look at my stomach!
This is my story... I loved to roller skate when I was in 3rd grade and when I was at a roller rink near my house (in tights and a leotard with a skirt on it) I heard someone call me a cow. I have now quit a sport that I love because someone said that I looked like a cow. people don't think before they act and many people are hurt by that. one day I believe that they will stop teasing and then everyone will be happy. Top
From: When will i be perfect
This is my story... Well I have always been a very beautiful and cute baby, in fact I was skinny, so skinny my mom thought there was something wrong with me when I was a baby that she even fed me extra, then when I hit the age of 9, I started to be chunky. I was always excepted into "the popular group" but an outcast in that group, not all the girls approved of me because I had the beautiful face, but the big belly. Middle school got harder, and seeing all the other girls with boyfriends and stuff really made me mad, so I started turning to drugs, I got out of school and went to a special program for "bad kids" there I didn't have time to eat as much and dropped 10 pounds. At this program, I had my first true friend who I still talk to , and my first boyfriend. it made me feel great to have someone love me, after we broke up I thought it was because I was too ugly and fat, so I began to starve myself 7 days at a time, now I'm in high school, I'm almost at my ideal weight, I have friends, boys that like me, then I got expelled and gained 20 pounds, school is right around the corner and I'm not eating and exercising to take as much weight as I can off, my face is getting acne, I am now 15 going into 10th, and have had suicide thoughts, attempts, just everything, I'd just like to know when am I ever going to be perfect? Top
From: Steph
This is my story... I started reading things on this website because of something that happened to me at work today. I guess I thought it would be healing to me to read the stories of others who could understand. Anyway. I will start at the beginning...I have always been fat. I was fat as a child and always teased. I got the usual moo noises and taunts. I was called whale and fatty and all sorts of things. It caused this pain in my heart that runs so deep, I know it will never go away. I actually lost weight in high school, dropped 75 lbs. I was thin and it was amazing the amt of attention I got because of it. I still felt fat and ugly. Once your self esteem takes a beating like mine has it never recovers. I dated a lot and had a lot of friends. But somehow it never made up for those people who felt it necessary to point out my obesity to me (as if I didn't already know). I of course gained all my weight back in college. I still have it all too. I am 5'7 and weigh 260. I got married 2 months ago to the most wonderful man ever. He loves me unconditionally and never ever mentions my weight only tells me I am beautiful. I have a successful career and a family that loves me, But those fat comments still haunt me. When I got married I decided to diet again. I have lost 15 lbs and have been getting so many compliments. Then today, at work some jerk old man decided to call me " that old fat girl" and proceeded to let everyone know who he was talking about. Now the fact that he didn't know I was listening does not excuse it. But I have been crying all day off and on. My husband was furious at this man's ignorance and has tried so hard to console me. But it was just like all those insults came flooding back from my childhood. My heart still breaks. And I know I can lose my weight and I will.. I have done it before. And that might stop the cruel remarks.. But it will never, ever take away the hurt. My heart aches for others in my situation. I wish that people would see us for the person we are inside, and love us for that. The only thing that has helped me at all is becoming a Christian. Since I have become closer to God I have found acceptance, completely. God loves me no matter what... and after all isn't He the only one who REALLY matters? Top
From: Sharen
This is my story... Beautiful evening in new Orleans. We went to the house of blues, wandered around the funky art shops in the French quarter, had our palms read, went to the French market and we loved each other. Sun setting over the river, with the paddleboats floating, next to the man I love holding hands and it was the most magical day.
Then my perfect day was knocked into the mud as a carload of drunken frat boys drove by and screamed "fat ass" at me laughing like howler monkeys and threw a beer can in my direction. Every nasty memory of bullies from high school came rushing in at me. Every snicker behind my back, every moo, every comment, every lonely lunch, every sticker with nasty sayings put on my back, on my locker, on my car
every boy I had a crush on who made fun of me, rivers of tears came over me like a flood in that moment. Then the man I loved looked at me, like he just realized he was holding hands with an alligator he let go of my hand, and backed up a step. Outside I looked mad, inside I crumbled like a 100 year old newspaper. As this man who fed me pralines at the French market an hour before said, you could lose a little weight you know. Top
From: Flat Fatty
This is my story... I am a thirteen year old girl. most ladies my age are thin and have some signs of becoming a woman. Well not me. I'm 158 pounds and I have NO chest. one day in the dressing room the popular girls looked at my bra size and the started laughing. "your not even an A YET!!!!!!!" they all laughed. now they call me flat fatty. I can hear the words echoing while I lay in bed at night. I cant help being flat. I just want to be thin. if anyone knows any way that I can loose weight please reply to this. thanks Top
From: Fern
This is my story... I was fat since inception, weighing almost 10 pounds. As I grew older the weight just kept rising as well as my height. By age 11 I was 5'8 and weighed almost 200lbs. I was not very happy to say the least. Nonetheless I took pleasure in the comfort of eating to fill up the void. Everyone knew my weight had crippled me socially, but no one extended any favors to help in the least. I was alone and understandably so I had managed to exclude myself from all those I truly loved. I was extremely depressed and found comfort in the Lord. I understood that food was not the problem I was and that something needed to be done quickly. The years passed and with determination and perseverance I managed to lose a large part of myself in the process. Today I live a much more health conscious lifestyle continue to obsess over my weight even though I can be easily carried off by a strong gust of wind. I hope that you the reader understands that I had to greatly condense my story and that losing any amount of weight takes a very long time. I paid my dues and it shows. Never feel like you are alone in this battle just keep a head up and everything will turn out fine. Feel free to seek the Lord he always welcomes a new soul. Thank You and God Bless you and America. Top
From: Beky
This is my story... Okay I was sort of fat, when I was younger, I was 140 pounds in 5th grade, I find that sort of chunky. But seriously if you are one bit overweight, the kids around you will notice. I wasn't picked on, but like, when no boys even ever considered going out with me, and just feeling like you are an outsider, hurts more than anything. I hope that I don't sound air-headed. I have since lost weight, and feel sort of happy with my weight. I used to dream about being as skinny and pretty as the young girls at my school, and now I am, and I am not happier than I was before. I remember being chunky and so unhappy, and I feel like I wasted all of my time, all of my childhood worrying and complaining about my weight, and that really sucks, I should have enjoyed my childhood, but I didn't I just thought that I was fat. And I was also sort of dorky, I had a mushroom cut hair due and as I look back on pictures of myself I just have to laugh. And I remember one incident where I was on the playground at my school and me and my "dorky" friend wanted to hang out with the "cool" group, but they told us to leave. That sounds dumb, but I bet if I was really good looking and really skinny that they wouldn't have said that. And I just always have these flashbacks of when I was younger and they make me feel so sad and lonely and depressed. But I can't take back all of those years when I was fat, I have to move on, and I try, but it will always be with me. And I try NEVER ever to judge people, if I see a large boy, I will go up and talk to him, or a larger girl, I will just go up and talk to her, I really hate people who judge others for what they look like. But I find myself doing that, and I hate myself for ever judging people because of what they look like. And I want to apologize to anyone who has ever been hurt before by someone who was picking on them, those people will pay, or they will eventually feel your pain. I want to tell all of you , to just try to live your life to its fullest. Don't ever waste it, and don't ever get hurt by someone's ignorance. I hope that you all can understand this. Top
From: Anonymous
This is my story... I have always been close with my family. I have only grown to admire my parents and my brother more with age, they are loving, supportive, funny, and the cornerstone of my confidence. And it was my admiration for them that made it difficult when they pointed out that I "needed to lose weight."
Since I was young, about seven years old, my weight was an open subject. As kids began to make fun of me for being fat, my mother would say, "don't come running to me when they call you fat" when I would eat French fries or ice cream. But that is exactly what I did when their taunts inevitably reached my sensitive ears. And my mother would never be able to stand behind her words...she couldn't be cold if she tried. She'd hug me and tell me that everything was okay, and would privately cry herself because she couldn't stand to see me so hurt.
Though it certainly was not meant that way, I always took my mother's tears as a tangible indication of disappointment. She cried not only because the other kids were making fun of me, but because by being fat I was less than what she envisioned of me. I was her pride in every other way. But I still was fat, still insecure and sensitive about it, and still vulnerable to the other kids.
It is true that everybody is insecure in one way or another. But being overweight is different. Having your biggest insecurity on display for everyone to see is amazingly vulnerable, especially when you are a kid. It's like a bright beacon saying, "Hey if this kid threatens you in anyway, makes you look dumb, does anything you don't like, etc., just call him fat and you win the approval of everyone else." Many kids found that temptation too attractive to resist.
In the past three months, I am now 24 years old, I have lost over 50 lbs. I have another 50 to go. But already I see the differences in the way people react to me, especially those who are meeting me for the first time. There is no longer that "fat dork until proven otherwise" attitude offered me. It is a sad fact of life, but true nonetheless, that the fat kid remains the fat kid, all the way to adulthood. I myself managed to overcome it in certain ways, and become a popular, well-adjusted kid in high school and in college. But still to this day, when a person first meets me, I have ten more hurdles to across before they offer me the easy acceptance someone with a 30 inch waist gets immediately. And still, after all this years and all I have accomplished and risen above, there is that fat kid inside who is hurt, and who knows how vulnerable he is. Top
From: Simona
This is my story... First of all sorry about my English, is not so good. I was fat too, not extremely, but fat. Since I was 7. I'm from Romania and here is exactly like elsewhere, fat kids are ridiculed, people make jokes about them, they call them names. Now I am 30 y old and still fat. In January 2001 I had about 255... (about 114 kg), now (Jan2002) I have 204 (93kg) and going down. What I realized over the years is that what really is important is not how everyone feel about you but how you feel about you. And more important is your health. Last year I was diagnosed with a diabetes, I also want to have a child but, because of some problems with my ovaries, due to my weight, I can not. And now I regret that I didn't start to lose weight when I was younger and lighter. But, most of all, I understood that the real health I gain by loosing weight is that of my mind (you know, I'm not anymore so self conscious, so afraid of what others will say about me).
To conclude, I want to encourage all of you to do what's best for you each, to stay open minded, to learn as much as you can and to be happy no matter how fat or thin you are! Be happy! Top
From: Sad
This is my story... I am almost 12 right now and I am 5'1. I weigh 130 lbs. I don't look that fat and I have been getting taller so I am stretching and getting skinnier. No one jokes be about it or anything. But I am going to starve myself so I will get skinny. I am going to weight 100 lbs or less my summer so I can wear a two piece bathing suit and walk around in it at White Lake in front of boys with out being shy!!!!! Top
From: someone
This is my story... I was fat all my childhood until age 14. then I starved myself down to 49 kilograms. I was anorexic until age 16. then I gained weight and became bulimic. I lived horrible 2 1/2 years binging and purging. I am now 20. for my mother, weight is all that matters. After an extremely successful first semester in a foreign University, she refused to greet me at the airport, because I was "looking like a pig". my mother had called me all insulting names known to mankind. It was her fault I started starving myself. She was so happy when I lost 25 kilograms in about 6 months. I have never been an outcast, because I always preferred to be alone, but I am very witty and charming and popular. I was popular even while fat. My mother's attitude is what is haunting me for years. Now I have normal weight and only 6 months ago I forced myself to tell my mother the truth about my "beauty". Ever since she had never mentioned the word "diet" in the house. So now I am beautiful, but so what. I don't have a boyfriend and barely some real friends despite my popularity. Talk about weight making happy. Top
From: Francesca
This is my story... I'm not fat at all but I am very emotionally mature I'm only 12 in 1st year high school and EVERYONE worries about their weight even if they are as thin as a piece of string. I totally feel for these kids and I hope they can ignore these bullies who tease them and so on its unfair and horrible and I wish them good luck. I would never tease or bully anyone because of their weight and if I did without thinking I don't think I could forget it. Anyway I hope you all are happy now. Top
From: Anonymous
This is my story... I am 12 yrs old. I am the biggest in my class.
I don't care!
That's how most people see me. The thing is I've always been bigger. I was bullied in year 3. I've came last on races. But I've never shown any signs that I care. I'm a size 18(UK).
But I don't care.
WELL I DO CARE!
That's what people don't seem to realize. Once every now and then when I see the boy I like I wonder if thing's would be different if I was smaller.
This happens a lot but when I look at my friends my awards for being friendly and the 1 sport award for shot-put ( no running involved )
I realize I'm happy the way I am and no one can change me.
So to any other's out there...
Be happy and enjoy life at school, work or whatever cos you only get 1 life at least we don't spend it on diet's that don't work. Top
From: Dana
This is my story... I'm still young now, I'm in 10th grade and I'm pretty fat. Yeah I'm not that big, but big enough. I used to have friends in groups, now it's just two close friends. I used to because I was younger and it didn't matter as much. It's so hard going to the mall n seeing all the guys look at my friend, like stare her down. Not only do I put myself down, but my brothers, mother and acquaintances do. Whether they are kidding or not, there telling me I'm fat. Then when I put myself down I get yelled at, meanwhile they are thinking the same thing and then telling me that its not true, oh okay!... yeah well honestly I think I have an okay face..and it really hurts because I have potential. Any guy that talks to me thinks I'm some slut because I have a low self-esteem and I'm just easy. Sorry hunny! Yeah well I don't know I guess it could be worse, I just have a lot of problems to begin with and this is one I wish I didn't have to worry about. Why can't big be beautiful? Top
From: SARAH
This is my story... Up until puberty (10) I was an average size girl. But then puberty hit and it hit hard. I was the first girl my age group at school to go through puberty. I started getting fatter than all the other people my age. In 8th grade I weighed 200 pounds. By the 12th grade I weighed 250 pounds. I haven't weighed anymore than that. I still weigh around 240.
I can relate to all the stories about bullies, being teased, being picked last for teams, etc. School was Hell for me. No one wanted to be my friend. NOT A SINGLE PERSON.
Since I was kept being reminded of how fat and ugly I am I started believing that I would not be pretty enough or good enough at anything. Since I believed that I didn't try to get better (like what's the use anyway).
In the 12th grade a new kid went came to school, his name was Steve (he was skinny as a pole). He was the first person that made me feel like I was something special. He invited me to the Senior prom (me? at the prom, I couldn't believe it). The night went all right. He even asked me to be his girlfriend. I couldn't believe it.
Pretty soon the whole school knew that Steve had asked me out. It was terrible. he would get beat up, picked on, and teased a lot for going out with me. He even wound up in the hospital for a week because someone saw him kiss me on the cheek. Fatty Lover was spray painted on his car, house, and locker. It was terrible for us. One day we were talking in the gym and someone through a basketball our way and it landed on Steve's nose and knocked some teeth out.
A couple of weeks later Steve handed me this note in hall:
Sarah,
I don't want to be your boyfriend anymore. The other kids are being terrible to me. Don't take this personal. I still like you, but only as a friend.
Steve
I still have that note to this very day.
I am 21 and have never had a decent relationship with a guy. I honestly have to say that I wouldn't know what to do if I had a boyfriend. I honestly wouldn't know what to do
My dad EVERYDAY reminds me "If you would lose your weight boys would like you". I am about to give up hope and accept that I may never have a boyfriend. Top
From: Mary
This is my story... I am a fat person. As I write this, there are 140 pounds on my 5'6" inch frame and they all fit nicely into size 8 jeans. I can shop in a "normal" clothing store, I can go to the doctors and not have any possible illness blamed on my weight--"an ear infection? Impossible. You're just too fat" and I can go through an entire day without someone making a cruel comment about my weight. But I am a fat person.
I can tell you the moment I became a fat person. I was young, second grade perhaps? And I was a big kid. Through elementary school, I towered over all the other students. I look at pictures, and I wasn't a fat child. Chubby would hardly even work. I just developed VERY rapidly. I started menstruating in fourth grade, when I was still playing with Barbies. And I'd reached my full, adult height of 5'6" by fifth grade.
Anyway, that moment... I was outside playing with my cousins. One of them had a bicycle, which she was riding down the block. 8 or so, and energetic, I ran after her, up and down the block. So much of my life hinges on this moment: before it I was carefree, and had a chance of being 'normal'. And then, my older sister felt the need to bring to my attention a comment a neighbor had made in regards to me running up the block: "maybe if she keeps up with that she'll lose some weight".
Everything changed at that moment. My body, my physical being, my weight were being judged by others and I was made aware of it. And, oddly enough, my method of escaping this reality came via the fridge. I remember thinking if I was going to be a fat person, I might as well be as fat as possible. I have no idea why I thought that, but I did. And I ate through my childhood with a panic. The went from just a large child, to a chubby child, to a fat child. Between the end of fifth grade and the start of seventh grade, I gained 100lbs. During eighth grade I gained 50 more.
I started high school at 264 pounds. I remember the trip to the doctors for my school physical. The first thing the doctor said--my first trip to her office--when she walked in the room was not "hi" or "nice to meet you" but "my, you're fat". I pulled the paper 'robe' as far around me as possible and began to cry. I was not even a person to this doctor, my weight had some how taken away that right. I went through my freshman year of high school fat. Being forced to wear "old people" clothes, because they didn't make a plus-size 2x-3x for juniors. Having to have a "special" dress, because I couldn't fit into the choir dresses--sorry, they only go up to a size 22. Having gym teachers tell me it wouldn't hurt me to "lose a couple hundred pounds" in front of my peers. Having my peers ignore me, not even want to be seen talking to that fat girl--they didn't even bother learning my name. Having my mother hide food from me, having her trying to put me on diets, telling me that its for my own health, and overhearing her tell my sister how embarrassed SHE is by MY weight. I was just as fat, and just as tortured by it my sophomore year of high school.
And then, my junior year of high school, something happened. I was so sick of it. I wanted to be normal. I went on this crazy diet. For an entire 6 months, I ate a tuna fish sandwich everyday, and that was all. Every day at 3pm I ate my sandwich. I had no energy and spent most of those days in bed. Laying there too lethargic to move, and welcoming sleep if only because they'd ease the hunger pains. I have no idea how much weight I lost, because I didn't weigh myself. I was terrified to. Strangely no one seemed to noticed--or at least mention my weight loss. The latter part of my crazy diet fell over summer vacation and I spent the summer in this one pair of sweat pants and this one t shirt. When school started and I went to dig out my jeans, I realized they didn't fit. They were WAY to big. My mom and I went to the store and I tried on pants until I found the size that fit: a juniors 13. I remember being so happy when those pants slide on. I was now going to be normal.
But, it never happened. I equated normal with thin, I suppose, but I'll always be a fat person. For all they say about crazy diets, mine some how worked: I kept the weight off. I gain a little back now and again, especially in winter--five or ten pounds, but it's always come back off. There was a brief time where the scale went back up to 190lbs a few years ago, during an episode of depression, but again, it came back off. What NEVER LEFT was the humiliation of being a fat person. That paranoid, overwhelming feeling when people laugh when I'm any where near them--they must be laughing at how fat I am. That need, before I excuse myself from a table in a restaurant, to plot my 'route', making sure I'll be able to fit through certain areas. The dread of going to the doctors, the humiliation of stepping on a scale when I'm only there with the flu. The blush, embarrassment and silent anger and over comes me when people tell fat jokes in my presences. I can't escape it. It's so engrained in who I am. Regardless of numbers or dress sizes, I'll always think of myself as a fat person. Top
From: Susie
This is my story... My story is like yours (the others that I have read). I am now 35 years old and although my outlook has changed as well as my image there are days that block out all the strides I seem to have made. Those days are the days that appear like nightmares with their insufferable emotions and memories of no self-esteem. My family was always there not to boost me or make me see my self - worth , but there too goad and taunt. It was horrific! To this day I believe that the evil lies in our society that deifies youth and slimness as opposed to individuality and individual strength. There are so many layers to this situation. Today, when I see fat kids I empathize so much with their pain and realize that the more the parent, teacher, books, magazines tell them to lose weight the more the child WILL rebel and eat. I wish I had had a more holistic approach to my situation i.e. I wish my parents had negotiated me as a sensitive child seeing with adult eyes and allowed me the space to grow within myself and see my own beauty and NOT the beauty that they expected from me and accepted me ONLY once I was thin.
These days I believe in health and fitness and although a fuller figure I am by no means obese or consider myself ugly...I speak here of good days which luckily by now, far outnumber the bad days memory days no matter how hard you try the blame and self-loathing comes to eat you alive and the only solace you find is through the thing that you have hated for so long and now are trying to find peace with.
I would love to suggest that self-acceptance is what it is all about and that our society is literally screwed up when it comes to images of beauty. Freedom is a choice not a necessity that one has to adhere to find its grace. Beauty IS in the eye of the beholder but that should not let us off the hook as far as looking after oneself is concerned. A healthy disposition is better for one. It creates clarity and well-being and it is THIS which parents should instill in their children and not the FEAR of failure and diets and the look of others. Viva the individual - create your own strengths and don't be lazy about the process. Be pro-active. Be conscious of self. My parents and teachers NEVER taught me that. All that they shared with me was guilt about my appearance; how I appeared in opposition to everybody else; how I didn't deserve to dress nicely, to look nice ; to inspire and be inspired by myself and others.
And when I think about this all in retrospect I realize that actually being a fat kid taught me so much about my self and about life that no other lesson could have done quite the same thing. It taught me to look inwards for change - not outward. It taught me not to blindly conform. It taught me that others in higher positions are not always right. It taught me to appreciate other things besides the transient pursuits of the magazine culture - to appreciate art in all its forms.
So although the burden is still there and comes back to haunt. I am glad for the experience because I opted to change for myself and for no one else. Top
From: Cody
This is my story... I was seven years old and went to the circus I wanted to ride the elephant. I weighed 200lbs. All of the other children were lifted on to the elephant. When they got to me, the man said "Your a Big fella." He tried lifting me, shoving me, pulling me, and couldn't get me on. Finally the man on the ground leading the elephant said "If you can't get him on, you can't get him on. He's just too big." I slipped off the elephant nearly tipping the saddle, with 4 other kids on it, off of the elephant and just stood on the podium. I was too embarrassed to go back to my seat. I could hear the people laughing. Then the elephant came back and before I could do anything the man tried again to lift me on. I began to get red with embarrassment as the crowds laughter seemed to erupt. The man was making all sorts of unnecessary grunting noises and expressions when I finally just said never mind and stomped back to my seat. it was at that moment that I recognized that I had a problem and I had to get help. Top
From: Anonymous
This is my story... At age thirteen I weighed almost 200 pounds. I had been overweight since I was six. I can't really remember being "skinny" and that doesn't bug me. I have never really felt unliked as I have a lot of friends I just feel different and when I walk into a store knowing I can only wear certain things bugs me. But the other day I was in the change room at a store trying on grade eight grad dresses and when the sales clerk came out and complimented me before my friend it made me feel good knowing that fat people can be pretty too. Top
From: Brandy
This is my story... My story is not so much of a childhood one, but that of my present college life. Ever since the first grade, I was worried about being fat. I am petite and always have been, but I cried the day that the scale said 60 lbs. Now I am in college, and my stomach seems to be growing out of control, my boyfriend is always complaining about how he needs to lose weight and I just look at myself and cringe. My best friend claims she is really fat, and she has the same amount of fat on her as me, so what am I then? No one really says anything, but I know who they look at when the girls that look like they never eat and resemble Ally Mcbeal walk by. I feel for everyone on this site and just want to say that I would kill for everyone to look at the person inside of me, fat or not, and to take me for that. So that's what I try to do for everyone else, cause maybe that is what is gonna stop all of these horrible ideas that it is unpopular or undesirable to be overweight. If I give them a chance, maybe one day they will all give me one too. Top
From: Corrin
This is my story... I remember when I was in middle school years and I thought I was fat but I really wasn't as my friends and my loving boyfriend back then which I am married to. I cried all the Time I thought I was fat I looked at me self and cried. I went though depression didn't really eat. I was 5"9' like 90lbs, at that age I was suppose to be 140lbs. I thought I didn't have a eating probably but I did. but I started to eat in 10th grade. I am at a perfect weight and I love myself. Top
From: Good Things about your fat
This is my story... One day, in high school, the editor came and asked me for a quote. Then he asked if there any advantages to being overwieght. Well, you can imagine my response. "Are you kidding me? A good thing about this hell?" I laughed in his face. Later on, I started thinking "What did he mean by advantages?" So I started a list about the good things about being overweight and over the years some have added to it but here it is as according to now.
1. When playing "Truth or Dare" you know you won't
be required to make out with somebody you
don't even know
2. You can always break the ackward silence on a
date by pulling out the old joke of "Does this
dress make me look fat".
3. In sex ed you won't be required to wear that
ridolous "Pregant Stomach Suit"
4. When you grow up you can publish a book about all
teasing that the jerks in school did and become
a best-selling author and millionaire.
5. All fairy tales end when the teased smart kids
truimph and the popular kids are stuck at the
local Burger King.
6. You learn how to swim before anyone else.
7. You learn to defend yourself.
8. You learn to look past the exterior of a person
and look inside.
9. You learn not to judge people before you know
their story
10.All the teasing just makes you a stronger person
11. You learn to respect and love your body because
This is my story... well i am 15 and my weight problem started about when i was in 3rd grade and i weigh about 270 now and im only in 10th grade i have had a really bad depression because people always seem like they like me but are embarrased to be with me i am really nice and funny but i guess i look diffrent no guys will ever stare or look at me. but i thought i could put it all to an end when i had slit my wrists and had to be taken to the ER
and i almost died right nnow i wish i had of died i cant deal with the pain and emmbarassment im so mad and sad with my self errrrr Top
From: "Marty"
This is my story... BTW, Marty isn't my real name. Marty is a character in a movie, and bonus points to those who can figure out why I chose that psuedonym. Hint: it won Best Picture in 1955.
Yep, amazing, isn't it? Seems that most of the stories on this site are from women or girls, but there are plenty of guys out there that deal with the hurt and ridicule of being 'disproportionate' on a daily basis. I'm 30 now, and 315 pounds, and I still deal with the consequences.
People have mentioned to me that they don't believe I weigh as much as I do, whenever somehow the actual mention of weight comes up. Granted, I'm a fairly solid fellow. While I do have substantial fat on my frame, there's a lot of frame, and muscle, there under it. Can't say that matters a lot, though, because it's the fat that shows.
I've always been fat. Never known a time in my life when I was anywhere near average. I was pushing 200 in sixth grade, 235 at the start of high school, 270 by graduation. On a 6 foot tall frame, that might not sound too entirely bad, but trust me, it was bad enough.
In middle school, I was the target du jour. Not only was I fat, I was painfully shy, having been raised by an absentee working mom and her parents (my grandparents) who were much older and very "hands off" types. As long as I didn't cause trouble, life was good. Was never allowed out to play with the neighborhood kids, rode my bike in the back yard, no friends ever came over, never went to any friends' houses, etc. Add the facts together that I was disproportionately wide and shy and socially sheltered, and you have all the ingredients for a miserable human being. Hi there. That's me.
Once I got to high school, I came to realize that "Fatism", for lack of a better word, is pretty much the only socially acceptable, nee institutionalized, form of torment and discrimination. Teachers and administration were no help. The same gang of popular kids were the most unmerciful from grade school all the way up. Before long, I began to embrace my fatness and use humor as a reflexive defense, whether or not it was appropriate. "Okay, the fat guy's here--lock up the fridge!" I'd say. Or, "here ya go, rub the Bhudda's belly for luck." Heh, some would. I would both delight and cringe whenever someone would bust up laughing at my antics.
I can recall one time, however, I let my temper flare. I got tired of hearing about how fat I was and how much of a dork I was and how much of a loser I was, and I carefully looked to see when the gym teacher's back was turned out on the track. Punched a kid named Scott in the stomach. There was a modicum of "ooh's" and "uh oh" 's when that happened, but mainly they were aimed at Scott, his friends basically telling him without words, "hey, you're gonna let the fat kid get away with that?" Scott clocked me in the jaw. The teacher never saw it or found out about it, Scott's dignity was upheld, and my torment went from daily words of abuse to being either ignored or looked at like a leper. Note to all: sometimes standing up for yourself, letting your frustration get the better of you, only makes things worse in the long run, even if there are no immediate repercussions.
I started off in high school playing football, hating every second of it. I didn't know the game, I didn't care about the game, I had no clue, but since I was a big kid, I was made to sign up for it by my eighth grade gym coach. Six plays into my first game my career was promptly shut down by another kid my size who landed on me, making me land on my ankles badly, ripping ligaments left and right. Still can't run worth a damn to this day. I got into theatre as a bit of escapism, but that only exposed me to more creative and theatrical insults whenever I tried to just be myself among them--I wasn't one of the 'popular' theatre kids. I found my niche, though, in tech. As long as I was building sets, rigging lights, running the sound board and light board, especially since no one else cared to or knew how, I was halfway respected. Unfortunately, this enthusiasm translated into a theatre scholarship at college, where I was soon exposed to just how cruel people can be when it's a refined art and subtle and expected.
Dropped out of college, worked around a few lousy jobs, long story short here I am now. Never had a serious relationship. Haven't had -a- relationship in nine years. Still make myself sick when I look in the mirror. Tried suicide once, didn't take. No remote signs of improvement in the future. No friends left outside of a few I know online. I won't be so simple as to suggest that being fat is the cause of all my woes, but it sure as hell never helped any. Also, I smoke now, started in college. Pack or so a day. I wonder which one will kill me first. I wonder...I honestly wonder...if I care which one kills me first. Not too many reasons to keep going, when you're trapped in a spiral of loneliness and heartfelt requests for a rope or a hand up are met with, "the hell is your problem? Come on, get over it. Save yourself." After a lifetime of scorn and ridicule and first-hand learning how 'normal' people are cruel and unforgiving, why would I want to save myself?
I realize this rant has digressed from a commentary about fatness into a general diatribe on misery, but b logically follows a. Save yourself if you can. Start young, work out, starve, throw up, whatever it takes. Don't give them a chance to start hurting you. Don't end up alone and ignored. Don't end up like me. Top
From: Manda
This is my story... This might be wrong! Im 14 yrs old starting highschool and i weigh 117! Im don't think im fat and neither does anyone else. I thought that i would just tell all you people how reading these stories has changed my mind about overweight people. I used to make fun of girls that there fat hanged out of there pants or you could see thier rolls through there shirts. I would never ever think about going out with an overwieght boy. And I still say that im fat and i need to lose weight. After reading the stories i think i know sorta how the people feel, even though i know i will never know the pain they have gone through or still go through today. Im proud of all of them and envy them for having the courage that i knew i would never have. Thank You! Top
From: Grahams
This is my story... My story is kinda different, I guess, from a lot of people's. And it's not because I've had some kind of miracle slimming and lost it all and become a thin-guy model everyone can adore. Nope. I'm real big now. I'm bigger than I've ever been before and I don't know particularly if I ever will get thin ... and I expect that I'm not going to be very good at losing weight on the diet that I'm starting now (my first). I've always been big. When I was a little boy I was never really all that little. Even my baby pictures show me "pumped up by a bicycle pump". When I was playing football or soccer or whatever with other kids, regardless of what age I was, I was always the biggest - or one of the biggest - playing. That went for everything. I'm just big-built. I was never thin and never expect to be. I'm strong and bear-ish. I didn't ever ask for that and never have tried to do anything about it. But I've also always been fatter than I should be. When I was really young, I was never really fat, really. I mean, I was big, but my friends didn't think that I should have been dieting. I'm 24 and a half now and don't know how to feel about my childhood anymore though, when it comes to what I should have been thinking or doing. My parents and brothers are all also big people. My Dad's at least 300 lbs and my Mom's about 200 lbs. But we're all just big and happy about it. Except me, kinda, now. Not because I think I should be thinner, but because I've always had this weird feeling that I wasn't even fat - that I was just supposed to be big. I was never picked on by anyone my age when I was little. I never had much trouble from older kids either when I was always pretty much the biggest boy around. Even my 3-year older brother Mark is smaller than me - has been since we were ten and seven. I was 6' at 12 and 260'. I was fat. I was definitely well-proportioned and strong too, but I was also really just-plain fat. I wish now that I could have had more problems with it, kinda. I grew up always the first to hit puberty, hit 6', hit 200 lbs., get hairy in weird places, get date-offers from older girls etc... Well, that last one could just be selective memory... But I was also never really interested in using my size for anything. I've wanted to be smaller and less noticeable most of the time. I've broken up smaller boys fights just by walking over a whole lot of times... I never started a fight or intimidated anyone intentionally. But I - a whole lot - wanted to just not be so big... but I just ate along with my family as much as I wanted - as always - and I've always been pretty happy. I didn't get into sports in high school as much as I might have - I love football and, on top of a lot of folks telling me I had to play, I just am much happier doing other stuff with my time. I've got great friends that I grew up with and I've never felt like I was too big around, but I do know that I was always the biggest kid. When I was about eight years old, I remember actually being the boy that put all the scaredy-cat girls (and some boys) up in the treehouse in my friend Aaron's backyard at his birthday party - and then being too heavy for anyone to be able to pull me in or even want me to come up into it because the the treehouse was too full. Course, it was only a few feet off the ground, but I was totally flustered that no one thought I should go in. Sure, I got teased for being too big for stuff. I am now. But American society is all about the bigger-the-better in some ways. I don't remember ever really getting made fun of for being as chubby as I was. I used to have nightmares for a brief while when I was growing really fast in puberty that I was going to be too tall to fit in any building and too wide to fit through any door. As soon as I stopped growing so fast and started to level off on the charts - before I was even 14 - I started to forget the supergrowth paranoia and got into just plain being paranoid - about girls and whether or not they'd like me. Before too long, I had a lot of good friends in high school and I was pretty decently happy. But I never stopped gaining weight. And it never became an issue, really. I'm pretty athletic - I go hiking and climbing and stuff a lot. I was an active Boy Scout for the whole of my teenage years. Lots of fluctuations in fattiness. But I can think of four extremes in my life when I was pretty much a big fatty and not so much. I was a fat kid. Definitely. When I was about five, though I was a lot taller than the other kids my age, too, I was, for some reason, definitely too fat. I have absolutely no memory of being really ridiculed for it. I was on a soccer team pretty soon after and thinned up a bit. Then I was eleven and there's a picture of me at the beach with my brothers and cousins. We all look pretty hefty, sure, all the boys in my immediate family, but it's real clear that not only was I the biggest, I was also the fattest and my belly hangs right down onto my thighs in that picture. Cue the crazy roller coaster of puberty. I never have been as thin ever in my life, I think, as I was for a month or two in 7th grade when I was growing freakily fast and eating pounds a day like a mad devil when I got home from school. I never was really thin, though. And as I stopped growing up eventually, I've never stopped growing... even though high school was up and down in every crazy way. The superfreedom of the summer after I graduated from high school saw me hanging out with friends every night, practically, and always eating as much as I could at every joint and every occasion, period. I got to be 300 lbs for the first time then. I'm 6'5", so that's not as huge as it is, fat-wise, on some people, but no one ever made fun. And, even though I lost a lot of weight in college - especially in my freshman year (the Freshman Minus Fifty instead of the Freshman Fifteen, pretty much), I've never gotten anything like thin. And the fourth big fatty moment is pretty much right now and this past year. I'm probably nearly 350 lbs. I don't want to know exactly. My waist on my pants is 50" - finally I'm a true fat guy. And I still feel totally comfortable except for the fact that I know it's not healthy. I'm not only bigger than my Dad now, something that's been the case off and on since I was sixteen or seventeen, I'm just plain big. And I'm totally used to it. And I finally feel like, despite everything I've tried to keep it from happening, I'm not a just a big fat kid anymore - I'm a fat man. And it's fine. But I might just as well have been made fun of a lot for it growing up, cause I kind of want it to hurt more. I'm not even sure if this diet I'm starting is going to be anything new at all. I get lots of exercise. I totally recommend that to absolutely anyone. But I love to eat so much that I can't tell you how strange ambivalence over something so popularly frustrating as fatness is. I think I may have grown up just fine, but I think I might just as well have been tortured a bit. I always wonder what would have been better. I make great money, have great friends and great lovelife. I intend to raise my future kids to do whatever it takes to be happy. Top
From: Anonymous
This is my story... I've never been that fat you know, but I still felt it because of the way society seems to be these days. My childhood experience always seemed to have the recurring theme of exclusion. Always being left out and always knowing that certain things in life were not open to me because of my appearance. Always knowing love and comfort that you really need if you're overweight is closed to you because of that very fact. I always felt that no one would ever love me and that I just shouldn't expect it since it wasn't something I actually deserved.
I was interested to read about the other stories that included beautiful skinny girls in them, making other people's lives a misery. I had a few of those. They seemed to have been put there by some higher power to take away the boys I liked at school and then later the men I liked. That's the worst thing because although you can tell they're stupid or just dull or whatever, and you know you're a way better person than they are, you also understand why the men are going for them and believe that you're not as entitled as they are to happiness.
Life is very lonely when you've got the constant burden of your appearance hanging over your head and making your feel like you don't even deserve the comfort you need. So after losing the weight, and now battling to keep it off, I think the only solution to the depression is to find others in your own situation, gain strength and support from them, and together, try to lose the weight. I think it's an important thing to do because it isn't about conforming, it's about being healthy in the long run and it's a very freeing experience to not be constantly aware of what you look like. Because once you reach a normalish weight, you stop thinking about it so much I reckon. It's hard and it'll take time but I think if you face it, that's a much better thing to do than live your life running away from it when you know you'll never escape it without a fight. Top
From: Charity
This is my story... I just wanted to write to all of the people who have posted their stories on this site. I grew up with a mother who was overweight and struggled with it for my entire life. She tried all the diet pills, drugs, and was treated for bulimia and anorexia. I see what an awful struggle it can be for a person. I have never had a weight problem nor have my 3 sisters but I have lived it through my mother. We are an extremely close family and live within 5 miles of eachother still so I could feel a lot of her pain. I just wanted to say that everyone is a child of God and we are all so special to him no matter what we look like or how much we weigh. Be happy, enjoy your life! My mom spent so much time worrying about being fat that her life was hell. She now weighs less than me and exercises daily. We are all vegan (we don't eat any animal products) and I know that this has been an incredible blessing to us. All of us have children and have gained some weight with pregnancy but I know that because we are vegan and we exercise we were able to lose the weight and be healthy. I just want to encourage everyone to be happy and try to find the wonderful things in your life and if you don't have any, find some! Life is wonderful and I wish you all the best of luck in yours. Top
From: ChUnKy MuNkY
This is my story... well you i've been fat for as long as i can remember but i could care less i'm happy with my life even though people say if i lost weight i would be so beautiful i dont care about being beautiful i've been skateboarding since i was 4 snowboarding since i was 7 and thats what makes me happy i've won many awards for those extreme sports and i've also won awards for playing the drums in a small band i'm in. people love me for who i am cuz i'm hilariously funny and i'm sumwhat cool so my fellow fat people dont feel bad for yourself Top
From: Kimberly
This is my story... I am known to all of my EX-FRIENDZ as fatty.I am fat and tall.Many ppl dont consider me fat because i am taller than every1 and u dont see much fat.I am an 11 year old who is 165lbs and 5'8.I am sad when ever i reread the things in my diary about ppl calling me fat and about me wanting to kill myself b/c of it.I am afraid i will turn out like my sister huge and lazy.I am really active and stuff i am no couch potato or n e thing.Well u see at school i am afraid of doing anything whether its walking down the hallway or reading a paper infront of my class i am afraid i will get made fun of b/c i am so fat and i get depressed over it too,i mean just because i am fat makes me depressed,sick,and suicidal.I think to myself that me being as young as i am shouldnt think about them things...but i do and cant stop it i think killing myself will be the best thing it will stop every1 from making fun of me. Top
From: Shannon
This is my story... I just sat here for an hour, reading the stories that others ahve submitted. Boy do they all sound familiar. I was a fat toddler, child, and now adult. My whole family is obese, so I always felt comfort arount them. They supported me, no matter what. School and friends were a different story. The first "fat" think i remember is in 4th grade. My teacher used to comment on how fat i was all the time. She made my life hell, but i refused to give in. All A's and B's that year. After that, there was always someone picking on me. I always had one or two friends, but in the back of my mind, i always wondered if they were really my friends, or were they just hanging out with me so they looked better. 7th grade- when i would walk down the hall, some of the older boys would moo at me. God that hurt. In high school, the older boys (again) would do things like grab my butt as i would walk down the hall, or say things that i will not repeat in here (children may see it). Fast forward to now. I am amrried to a wonderful man. He is also fat, but i dont see it. I see a wonderful man. I have always wanted to be the girl that everyone wanted to know, wanted to date, or at least, the girl that people thought was attractive. I dont like going anywhere new, because i am not sure how people will react. Just last month, I had 2 kids (teens) harrass me at a mall near my work. It brought back so much of my past, that i was in histarics when i called my husband. Crying on the phone, i told him what happened. He was upset, or course, but no matter how many times he told me i was beautiful, it didnt make me feel better. What worked, though, (lol) was a male co-worker of mine told me that i was never to go to that mall without him again. He would go, and beat up anyone that even looked at me wrong. Of course, he wouldnt do that, but to know that someone would stick up for me was one of the most wodnerful feeling i had ever had. My husband and I are trying to have a baby now. I want to lose weight, so tht it will be easier to conceive, but my husband tells me not to worry. My childhood years as a fat kid were rough, and my adult years as a fat woman are rough, but with the support of my husband, family, and the friends i have, I feel that I may survive. Thank you for letting me reamble, and please, disgregard any typos...lol Top
From: Plump
This is my story... It concerns me to read about the young people who want to loose weight. I understand I was there once myself. I was a size 12 in the 5th grade....now at 20 years old I am 5'4 and weigh in at 137 pounds. I am not thin..but have discovered I have diabetes and must maintain a certin weight. I love my body and have come to realize that after many years of thinking negativly. My boyfriend is a bouncer (in perfect shape huge muscles and all) and loves my "plumpness". He has tought me that you don't have to be thin to be beautiful. Top
From: Bree
This is my story... I am the kind of girl who is not that fat, but is still fat compared to everyone else. When I go out shopping with friends they always go into the small petite rows of all 0 pairs of jeans. But i have this one friend who is very unique in a way. She is one of the most popular girls in the school too. She tells me practiculy everything, which is good but in a way bad. She knows i am fat, but she won't say it. i even say to her face "i am fat, i really need to loose weight" and she always says no your not fat. which makes me feel good. But then i know she is only saying this so that she doesn't make me feel bad. you see se has these 2 other good friends that are also fat. one is heavier then me and she also says to me "got Lau* is sooooo fat i can't believe her parents let her get that big, she will never loose weight even if she trys with all her might" then she says about her other friend who is the same size as me "well *ria is not as big as Lau* but she is still big, she really needs to loose weight" and i am like HELLO why don't you just say it to my face then!!!!!!!! i mean how dumb is that!!! well i am trying to loose weight cause i really want to fit in!!!! i lost 3-4 pounds soo far, i was once 140 and now 136-137 and my goal weight is 115!!!!! and i am in 8th grade! this is my story about ME NOWW Top
From: Little One
This is my story... It all started when I was really little. Probably preshool. Looking back at old photos and pictures... I'm not what would be considered fat nowadays by any standards at that age. But back then, being overweight at age 4 or 5 was much more rare, especially in a rural community where kids still ran free and played outside all day long. I was very short for my age, but very, very muscular, making me look "fat" and I had a little bit of a belly. Let's just say I took after my Italian father.
I played sports, little league and soccar and yet the belly stayed, and the other children were quick to let me know that they noticed.
The real torment started in grade school. Whether the other children really thought I was fat or not is irrelevent at this point becase at age 5 I was by no means fat. The fact is that being called "fat" bothered me a lot at that age and I let it show. My weakness came through and the other children, like a pack of wild jackals pounced on it like a dying Antelope. I was an out of towner in a school full of townies, I was extremely short and had a little pot belly. A recipe for teasing. Even my own brother joined the fray. In the end even though I wasn't fat I believed I was. I also believed that I had no worth and that nothing would ever change that. I had no friends and no one to talk to. Even my own mother was too self absorbed to help me. When I told her that the other kids were picking on me and that it hurt me she just told me to "ignore it. their opinion doesn't matter" While this is TRUE it is awfully hard for a child with no friends to really trully believe this.
So finally I found a friend. Food. And boy did I visit that friend a lot and my parents did nothing to moderate my eating. All junk food was available to me any time I wanted it. I could come home from school and eat ten twinkies and my mother wouldn't utter a peep. As the weight piled on, so did the self hatred and loathing.
Junior high rolled around and I was pretty big. Not sure how big at that point. I would say maybe 150lbs maybe, but I was still short, at least a foot shorter than everyone else, minimum. The picking intensified. I joined the band... and the sad thing is that we all know that the band is full of outcasts and even they picked on my to make themselves feel better. There was no end. I was threatened, teased, tricked, humiliated, everything you can imagine, and more.
By my junior year of high school I was 4'10" and weighed 175 lbs. I had no lap. I was obese. On the night of my junior prom I put on a dress and my dad said, "Well now you don't look quite so fat, you almost look like a girl even" It was meant to be a compliment and at that point my frayed tortured mind even took it as one. I didn't have a date for the prom originally, but a "pal" of mine fixed me up with one at the last minute. I should have run screaming. Long story short, it was the most horrible night of my life. I went to the junior prom with the Marlboro man. I had hit rock bottom.
Then something happened. I lost weight. I lost about 30 lbs over the months of december and january my senior year and I looked quite a bit better. Some of the teasing even dropped off. Evne with this lull, my sense of self esteem didn't budge and my self worth didn't increase.
I went to college. Spent the first year in hiding, believing that by doing so no one would notice me and there would be no opportunities for my feelings to be hurt. Eventually during my sophomore year I made friends, but I was never really socially involved. They were nice and we hung out, but I held back and out of the main circle out of fear and a feeling that they didn't really like me, they were just hanging out with me out of pity.
Then, a diet. I lost a lot of weight and got in really good shape. I was no longer obese, but I was still over weight. I weighed 132 lbs at 4'10". I had boyfriends. But.... I still hated my self.
Today I weigh 120 lbs and decreasing (I'm on a diet) I'm 24 years old and I'm getting married in less than a year... but you know what? I'm still the fat girl. I still have he mantality and it is obviuos that no matter how much weight I lose the self loathing will always be there. I'm hyper critical of my looks and I still call myself fat even though, by most accounts of other people, I am merely chubby and soon I will probably be extremely average. I pcik on every part of my body and am never satisfied. One would think that someone who had lost 55 lbs and kept it off would have something to be happy about. I have managed to lose the weight out of an effort that was mainly aimed at changing how I feel about myself. As it turns out, I don't think thats possible. I can get skinny on the outside, but now I'll always be fat on the inside. Now when I look in the mirror and get irritated over the stretch marks that litter the landscape of my body, they serve as a reminder of everything bad. Not just of the teasing, but of the time I wasted in college keeping to myself when people really did want to know me and they really did want to hang out with me.
My fiance loves me as I am. He loves me at this weight, at any weight. I wish I could take lessens from him so I could learn to love me too. Slowly maybe I'll get there... Top
From: Anonymous
This is my story... I am "obese" in a matter of speaking. I am a Freshman girl in highschool im 5'3 and i weigh 250 pounds. as a kid i was always made fun of by everyone except for one realy nice boy who went to my school...well now that "boy" is my boyfriend and he loves me so much. hes no slim jim himself at about 5'7 160 but hes really buff (on the football team) and now noone calls me names cuz he is really popular and my bf. if anyone calls me names, he "takes it to them" if you know wut i mean...im happy and comfortable the way i am Top
From: Deborah
This is my story... I was born in 1953. Photos of me as a baby and toddler, and through first grade, show a normal-weight, slender child. By third grade, I had gained an enormous amount of weight; I remember wearing a loose-fitting "mumu" to school and being asked by a classmate if I was pregnant.
My mother and other female relatives started going to a "weight doctor" when I was nine. My mother took me along, and each week we weighed in and were handed the week's box of pills. It was only many years later that I realized these were primarily amphetamines. To my mother's credit, when she saw that I was shaking, nervous and crying for no reason, she took me off the pills.
An area that still bothers me for young women is that NO ONE explains to girls that as they go through puberty they WILL gain weight. Regardless of what weight they are as they enter puberty, Mother Nature will see to it that they gain weight in order to develop hips, breasts and sufficient extra resources needed to carry a baby to term. Knowing that this will happen and that it is completely natural might help a little bit with the weight obsessions that so many young teenagers acquire. Top
From: Cindy
This is my story... I was reading the stories of he overweight people and children, funny thing it was my father who made me feel so fat most of my life, and I am not fat. The most I ever weighed as a teen and early 20's was 128.
I am 5'2 and carrie the weight well. My father copied a picture from a medical journal of an obese woman and pasted my face on her body and put it on the fridge. I was never more humiliated than that in my entire life, it stayed there for almost a year. My father made me feel fat and ugly. I am grown, with 4 children, when my first child was born and myfather cameto see her his eyes shined, he wasso proud, I looked him in the eye at that moment and told him if he ever ever said anything mean or urtful to my children, he would have to deal with me. He never has. He never made me loose weight by his words or remarks and he still tries to make fun of me but I just look at him and smile and say Dad I am alot like you, but much nicer. I am not overweight, 3 of my children are but never ever would I ever call them fat or ugly. And it doesn't mean they will stay that way, my oldest son lost all his weight when he turned 15, all kids usually ain weight around 9 till around 11 or 12, then they stop gaining and start growing taller ans grow into their weight. My oldest is 18 she is lovely and overweight a good 75 lbs, but we have discussed this and told her 'If you are happy within yourself that is all that matters, you are old enough to decide how you choose to eat, the pro's and cons. People can be so very cruel, it is sad..believe in who you are, no that you are a good person .names hurt and trust me even as you grow up there will always be somebody that will put you down. but thats not your problem,it is their problem
they don't feel good about who they are. Stand tall be proud, and the next time someone calls you a name say
"And your point is?" Trust me it works every time. Top
From: fat no more
This is my story... I just want to thank all of you for sharing your stories. I was a fat kid as well, and often had thoughts of suicide. Even now, as an adult in my late 20's, I suffer the after effects of being a fat kid growing up in an unaccepting society. I'm bulimarexic (anorexic with bouts of bulimia) and am haunted by the memories of the past; the whispers, the snickers, the looks of disgust on the faces of others, and of course the physical abuse by the other kids. It really never goes away, does it? Anyway, being here and reading all of your stories makes me feel as if I'm no longer alone, which is quite a change considering that I spent my entire childhood alone. Thank you, and the best of wishes to all of you. Top
From: anonymous
This is my story... I started reading these stories because I was in a sad mood and felt like connecting with others. I recently met a really cool guy online and we totally hit it off...until we met in person and he found out that I was fat. I didn't want to tell him online, because I knew that he'd probably not even consider meeting me. I'm 20 and I've never had a boyfriend (just a lot of guy friends, my fellow fat girls know how that is). I thought maybe this guy would be the exception, he seemed so "open-minded", but he's been ignoring me online, so I guess I get the hint. Well anyway, I started to lose some more weight (i lost 70 pounds a few years ago. Maybe I'll see what life is like on the other side. As shallow as it may be, it would be nice to have a guy check me out. Top
From: Emmy
This is my story... I was a skinny kid until I was about seven. Then someone discovered that I wasn't eating lunch. School lunches were really gross, and I simply didn't want to eat them, but it was ages before anyone told my mother. When they did, she started to send me to school with a packed lunch, and that was when the weight started to pile on. So, at the one time in my life when I was thin, I was consistently missing one meal a day. Anyone who ever wants to tell me I 'could' eat healthily and be thin might like to bear that in mind.
I don't recall getting teased much at primary school (I'm in the UK) until I turned nine. I had boobs by then, and an aunt took me out and got me my first bra. It was more comfortable than a vest, but then I'd get the other kids pointing and laughing when we got changed for games, and the boys flicking the strap through my clothes when they passed me in class. In spite of the fact that Brownies are supposed to be kind to others, I got teased there too. When we went on Pack Holiday, I was accused of being lazy and used to get some of the other girls steal the underwear from my linen bag and throw it round the room after lights out. Also they'd try to make sure if there were games, I got put in a position where I'd have to do something physically humiliating. There was something called the Monkey Race - you had to raise yourself on your hands and feet, facing upwards - kind of difficult to describe, there's a yoga position like that - and THEN move yourself along in that position. Difficult and ungainly even for a thin kid, and your skirt would ride up showing your underwear. I would always get put forward for that race, and I'd try to make surreptitiously go missing so as not to have to do it and get laughed at.
By the time I was at secondary school, I was 5'5" and 140, and a British size 14. Not huge then, about average, but I still got tormented over it. We had to wear tiny little short skirts for gym, which was bad enough, but the school had to get them by mail order so we all had to line up and be measured by the gym teachers. They both took a dislike to me at that point, and from then on would take pleasure in forcing me beyond my limits - climbing ropes, or doing the circuit when I was almost passing out from horrendous menstrual cramps. (I suffered these a LOT back then. My mother and the school thought it was 'just part of being a girl' so it never got checked out and I could never get a note to get out of gym. Much later when I went on the Pill, the cramps vanished and have never returned.)
Also, there was dance class. I took an interest in ballet from the age of about 11 and went to local classes. I was the second fattest girl there, but I loved dancing. Then I realized that one of the girls, who went to my school, was snickering in the back room with her stage mother over how I looked in pink tights. Eventually, this went all round my school and I was having snide comments made to me by other skinny ballet girls. The crunch came when it was exam time, and me and the other fat girl got put down a grade. I thought there was genuinely something wrong with my dancing, although they'd said nothing before and I'd been there months - then, just as THAT grade was due for an exam, it happened again. Then that went round my school too, and it came out that the teachers didn't want fat girls spoiling their lineup in the eyes of the examiners. I made my excuses and left.
I also desperately wanted a dance part in the school play. One year they picked a play with dance parts, and I was eager to audition, so I asked the gym teachers, who organized that side of things, when it was going to be. She said they were going to organize it and they'd let everyone know. A few months later, a list of the people rehearsing the dances came out. I asked when the audition had been, and I was told they'd decided not to have one, just picked the people they 'knew' were good dancers. Needless to say, the people they picked were all thin - and most of them knew me, knew how much I'd yearned to be in that play, and were laughing in my face about it.
I remember asking my mother if I could go on a diet when I first started getting fat, but she said it was just puppy fat and I'd lose it later. Later on when I was still 'big' in her eyes, she turned round and started blaming me for overeating and sitting too much. She was always saying how chunky my thighs were, how I should walk five miles a day, how I was definitely going to get diabetes when I was older, and how men don't marry women who don't look nice, or they leave them if they 'let themselves go'. I never had many boyfriends, but I honestly believe it was more down to lack of confidence than anything else. I was sent to an all-girls' school, taught to regard men as sort of alien beings, I was painfully shy and I think I was kept deliberately naive about sex and relationships (my mother said after my divorce that she'd never expected me to get married!). I was taught that if you looked nice the boys just naturally flocked to you, and that the fact they didn't 'proved' how awful I looked. When I did gain confidence a little later, I was over-demonstrative enough that I frightened guys away. I wish I'd had someone actually guide me through that whole emotional minefield, and tell me that how I looked actually wasn't that bad. Because it really wasn't.
I hate the expression 'Children can be so cruel', by the way. They learn their cruelty from adults. The fact that teachers were behind a lot of my persecution tells you that, but I've also been bullied for my weight in my adult working life. I had a whole office of people who'd previously been friendly to me ostracize me once when two new girls started and decided they didn't like the fat girl. They referred to me openly on the phone, in earshot, as 'that thing'. And they once planned a lavish Christmas party for everyone in the office - barring me, the boss and one older lady - but under our noses so we all knew what was going on. The boss was also fat, and also the brunt of their 'humor' - they used to call her names, make up sexual rumors about her and go through her bag when she was in the bathroom - but because they'd made up lies about me, she believed the bullying I was receiving was my own fault, and nothing was done about it until they left.
And speaking of adults who should know better, my mother has still, all through my adulthood, continued to pick at my self-esteem and tell me how fat I am. She has always been very thin. My adult build takes after my dad, who was bigger. I'm not quite sure what she expected, but get the impression I was 'supposed' to be thin and dainty and live on air, with the occasional ice-cream sundae (she's the real refined sugar freak!). But then, she's one of those people for whom nothing I do is ever good enough, so I steer clear of her as far as possible.
I'm 39 now. I eat healthily. I don't take as much exercise as I could, but I'm working on that. I have a good job, a wonderful husband who loves me exactly as I am, and plans for the future. I'm a size 18, and I don't know how much I weigh because I refuse to have scales in the house. And my heart goes out to all of you poor kids - past and present - who've been hated, reviled and persecuted merely for being fat. Many of you have had it far worse than me. I want to give you all a big hug and the reassurance that you are beautiful, worthy people, that you are stronger and braver than anyone could know, and that there has to come a time when we no longer allow this kind of hatred to continue. Top
From: Anonymous
This is my story... I was "fat" all my life, and was my older brother's been fat since 3rd grade, too. All my family was overweight except for my dad. And so's my best friend, Alicia.
But one time in 4th grade, I had the 2nd worst day of my life. (The 1st one's a different story, it has nothing to do with me being fat or anything)
But anyway....
This was Girl Scouts, believe it or not.
One of our leaders Mrs. Smith's grandmother died, so she didn't feel like having a lesson with us. And then she told us we could play outside for the whole meeting.
There were 7 girls in the troop, including me. There were two twin girls, Susan and Beatrice. Susan was the bratty one who always complained. Beatrice was the "nicer" one apparently.
There was also Tina, who I liked and was nice to me.
Then there was the most memorable one, Gail. I was best friends with her for years until that year she was soooo nasty to me. She was a brat, too.
Then there was Christi who was really quiet.
And finally, there was Zoey. Everyone hated her, and she cried at EVERY SINGLE MEETING for what the other girls, especially Gail, said to her. She stood up for herself, or at least she tried to. And when I went to Girl Scouts, it was me, Gail, Zoey, and the other leader, Mrs. McDonanld. (Gail's mom)
But anyway, we go to a church thats right next to Susan and Beatrices' house. She has a golden lab dog, Fluffy. And I am scared of dogs.
She had this tire swing that each girl took turns on. This is the worst part.
Finally, it was my turn. I was able to get on the swing, when all of a sudden, Fluffy started going crazy. He ran around and around and starting bumping into the tire swing. He almost knocked me off.
I was terrified. I screamed as loud as I could, and Mrs. Smith's husband ended up taking the dog away.
After that, I saw some of the girls staring at me and whispering.
I walked up to the stump where Zoey was sitting. She was the only one who wasn't doing anything. I asked her if they talk about me, and she said "Yes." And then she told me all of the mean things that they called me like "Fatty" or "Fatty Girl".
I was crushed. I didn't cry until I went home and started sobbing as soon as I saw my mom.
I never went to Girl Scouts ever again that year. Top
From: Nanasha
This is my story... I think it started out with the "Chubby Cheek Contest" when I was a baby. I had huge chubby cheeks. My mom always told me how I looked like a china doll as a baby. When I got older, I never really paid attention to food or what I ate. I remember that my mom was very strict about licking the beaters when we made cookies (a rare occurance). Overall, when I was a child, I was a "chubby" kid but never fat, and always active. However, I started developing breasts around the 5th grade and I thought that it was fat. I was terribly embarrassed about them and used to wear huge formless t-shirts which made me feel like I was much fatter than I was. To compound it, my mom was this thin little blond woman who always did these exercise tapes, and she encouraged me to do them too. I always thought that they were silly, but she praised me every time I did it with her, so I felt that I was "good" for doing it. We were from a "clean plate club" sort of family, where my mom would make food from scratch and make us eat the whole thing. It wasn't until I was in junior high or high school that my mom started treating me like I was fat and unattractive, and I believed her. I believed that I was disgusting and horrible and that I should just kill myself. That was around the time where I broke my arm, which laid me up in the hospital for a long time. The reason I broke my arm in the first place was because I was on the top of the bunk bed thinking about how fat and gross I was and how no one would (or could) love someone like me...and then the railing fell out from behind me and I fell backwards, twisting and snapped my arm in half. After the surgery (I had severed a nerve and needed several), I still hated myself, but I vowed to add more activity to my regimen. I also started journaling my day to day activities. There are a LOT of entries about my fears and hatreds revolving around my self image and fatness. To me, the idea of being fat was coupled with feelings of anxiety and fear of not being loved or being attacked. In response to this (or perhaps despite this) I became a very strong and outspoken person who always stood up for my friends, especially if they were shy or less able to speak for themselves. I always had a huge amount of friends, even though I hated myself because I felt that even though I was fat, I should not bring up the fact that I was fat to everyone else because it would just bring them down. So I started biking everywhere, and I joined various sports. I also took PE for every year of high school, even though I was not required. I always gave it 110% and the boys would always want me on their team (unlike the other girls) because I tried hard and pushed myself even though I was fat by my standards (no matter what I did, my mom always said I could always lose 10 pounds). I realize now that I wasn't fat as much as I was just sorta chunky. I was never a bikini babe, but I was mostly muscle and large breasted (which made me very self conscious). I had a few boyfriends here and there, but most of them were verbally abusive or manipulative...strangely enough, they never used my weight against me. As I got out of high school, I gained more weight, mostly because I moved out of my parent's house and started living with my grandmother who always wanted me to eat. Unfortunately, I didn't practice much portion control and since my parents had so severely restricted me from eating candy or sweets, I ended up eating a lot of stuff that was not so good for me and then added that up with rigorous exercise (mostly biking) and starving myself. On top of that, I was finally pressured into getting a car, and I'm sure that contributed to a lot of my weight gain as well. I was on the pill for awhile, and kept gaining weight slowly but steadily. When at my peak exercise and fitness in high school, I was around 150 pounds of well defined muscle and a little flab (mostly boob); a stocky girl. Then I got pneumonia and couldn't move around for a few months. I gained about 10 pounds and thought that I was a blimp. My mother hated me for gaining weight, especially since she used to be so proud of me for being 150 ("you only have to lose 10 or 20 more pounds" she said). After gaining that weight, she punished me by not going shopping with me. She would also encourage me to starve myself. She put me on this "calorie restrictive diet" where I had to count calories and record them in a diary. Of course, she told me to eat healthy, but I didn't know anything about nutrition, so I just looked at the calories on packages. I ended up eating a candy bar or two and then skipping meals for the rest of the day because I wanted to "save calories". When I turned 18, I was on birth control pills, I was around 160 and steadily climbed until I was over 200 pounds. It got worse when I moved away to go to four year college after the junior college. I was expected by my parents to pay for all living expenses, and I could barely make rent, so I'd starve and starve, eating canned vegetables that were left over from welfare recipients, and hotdogs. Then I met a guy in college who wanted to date me, but I ended up using him as my food contact. He'd let me into the all you can eat dining hall and I was so hungry from not eating much at all for weeks and weeks that I'd gorge myself like I wasn't going to eat for the rest of my life. I went to the doctor once around that time and my triglycerides were over 500. He tried putting me on medication, but it made me sick, so I stopped. I encountered a bunch of lectures from him and the nurses about my lifestyle. However,I didn't have the money or the ability to afford to do the drastic exercise and diet changes that he was proposing and felt that my only option was to just stop going to the doctor to avoid being lectured about stuff I couldn't do anything about. During this time of my life when I was around 200 pounds, I was the most desired that I'd ever been by the guys around me. I had 2 boyfriends at the same time (both of which were ok with it) and two or three other guys who wanted to date me. It seemed beyond my comprehension that they could find me sexy, but I defined myself sexually as a "perverted person who had sexual skills". So, really, instead of being afraid that guys wouldn't like my body, I just assumed they liked me because I was so willing to try new stuff and was very dominant. A lot of the time I would try to imagine a better body superimposed over my own while I was being sexual. It helped me to forget how I actually looked and act "sexy" in a way that didn't make me feel foolish.
All this time, though, I would go home to visit my family from time to time and my mom would give me periodic "serious talks" about how fat I was getting. She tried to get me to join Weight Watchers, get weight loss hypnotism, anything so she wouldn't have to have a fat daughter. Not long after this, she developed a "mysterious" allergy to all dairy and lost a massive amount of weight. To this day, I'm fairly sure she's simply lying about it, and it's a throwback to her bout with bullemia and anorexia. My father, on the other hand, would slip money to me when I was leaving in my car. He must have known how hard it was to be a starving student. He never treated me badly because of my weight. I think that's one reason I moved over 2 hours away to go to college; I wouldn't have to talk to or interact with my mom, who always played the fat card with me and always made me feel bad for being myself. She would buy things in sizes too small for me and then say "I know this might be too big for you, but...."
This continued until around this year (meanwhile I got married and my mom sort of cooled off with the "no one will ever love a fat person like you" lectures). I recently got health insurance with a new job and the doctor said my blood pressure was borderline. She took me off hormonal birth control and my blood pressure went to normal. Other blood work showed that I had higher cholesterol, so I worked on that for awhile and the LDL went down to normal too. I started biking everywhere instead of driving once again, and I started controlling my portions a lot more and making sure my foods were as minimally processed as possible. I still enjoy treats from time to time, but I try to limit them because I want to see if my body is supposed to be this weight or if it's due to what I'm putting in it. The doctors are currently confirming a diagnosis of PCOS. I have very high testosterone even though I'm a woman, and my periods are very irregular again, like before I was on the Pill. I'm still around 232, but I've lost about 20 pounds after getting off the Pill without really trying to. I refuse to do a food diary ever again, even though the doctor tells me to, because it makes me crazy and then I start binging or using calories to eat unhealthy things, so I work on eating hearty vegetable soups, small servings of meat, and control my portions, and for now, that's good enough.
As soon as I told my family about the PCOS diagnosis, they started accepting me more. They felt that since there is a medical reason for my gross fatness, that it's somehow more acceptable because it's "not my fault". I had to fight tooth and nail to finally get the doctors to test me for it and stop giving me the "you're just a lazy fat person" lecture, and I've mostly had to do the research myself (educating myself on endocrine disorders like thyroid problems, cushings, etc) to figure out that due to my symptoms, PCOS fits the definition the best (but I did have them do bloodwork to rule out hypoactive thyroid or cushings). I know that there's still a long way to go as a person, and that I'm still not happy with myself, but I am hoping to work to get my condition under control, and once I get to that place, I don't think I'll care as much about my body size as I will care about what I can do with my body. At the size I am at, I can do hard riding up hills and long distances for hours. I can lift a lot of weights. I eat good and healthy foods that I prepare myself and with my husband. We enjoy a good life together, and we are very happy. I would like to have children of my own, but due to the hormonal problems, I am currently unable to conceive (or at least have a low chance of it). I am worried that if I do have a child that he or she might have a genetic predisposition to obesity, but I know that one of the things that I have learned the most from my own childhood is that the most important clues about how much worth you attribute to body size comes from how someone treats themselves and how they model behaviors. I think that if I can show them that I am strong and athletic and loved very much by so many people even though I'm fat, that it will help them to feel good about themselves regardless of size. The only big fear I have is about my mom instilling the fear of fat in them. Looking back, I realize that I thought that so many people knew the "answers" about why I was wrong, bad and fat, but I finally realize that in reality, they were the ones with the distorted perceptions, which in turn distorted my perceptions and really caused a lot of doubt and depression in my youth. I don't doubt that I would have killed myself if I didn't start journaling and keep myself active in sports and music. I also attribute the large group of friends that I always seem to have (for some reason, even though internally I don't understand why someone would want to be around a fat person like me) and the large amount of male admirers that I often seem to have (and these guys aren't freakish fat-person fetishists either!) along with my Nonnie (grandmother) and my dad, as well as my sister and brother (both of whom are normal sized but who I helped raised to a great degree while my mom was going through various weird stages in her life). I've always labeled myself as "fat" while pussyfooting around the word. I think that it says a lot about what I think about myself. I'm fat, but I try not to think about it. I try to envision myself thorugh my mind's eye as this other person, this acceptable person, and distance myself from my body to some extent by saying "this body is my vehicle, so I need to take care of it, but beyond that, I shouldn't be vain or overly proud of it."
I guess that's something I've taken away with me from my years of knowing that I am a Fat person and therefore gross. But since I am somehow loved very much, I can live with myself. Because that tells me that if I can be loved, then my weight must not be nearly as important as I think that it is. Top
From: Mixed-race mutt
This is my story... I was twelve when I realized I wasn't white.
It wasn't as if I couldn't see my father's brown skin and ink black hair; I just never really thought about the fact that I had it too. I grew up in a small, rural town; with white friends.
When I watched those princess movies I never had any problem beleiving that when I grew up I would look like Cinderella,
Or Sleeping Beauty
Even Belle would have been okay.
When, in middle school, my own ethnicities hit me like a lead brick, I felt as though I had been cheated out of a prize. That day I felt like I was doomed.
After that revalation I noticed other things too; my coarse,thick hair, my wide feet, my brown eyes. And my fat. MY FAT. It was no longer the cute baby fat that would magically give way to that banging hourglass figure. I was fat; I had a fat ass and now no one would love me.
I woke up every morning and wished I had been born blonde and blue eyed. My best friend was the epitome of beauty, so close and yet so far.
It wasn't fair
It still isn't fair
Fat and brown; I felt like I was being punished. I was smart; I tried hard in school and yet I didn't look like the pretty girls.
I have accepted it now; done research on my father's culture and looked at all the women of color.
This is my story... My story sort of goes backward from the usual. I'm 62 years old, but not so long ago, I was a kid of 6, 7, 8, 10, 12, 16 and so on. I was a skinny kid, not skeletal, but slim. My grandparents and aunt called me "killeer legs" because my legs were long and skinny. I had growing spurts which all kids do. I was pretty much slim until I was in my mid-fifties for the most part. - Gradually over the years, my weight crept up until now I'm at 172 lbs. at 5'5". I've noticed most everyone on here is very young. When one is still growing, the body needs good nutrition in order to grow beautifully - salads, soups, whole grain breads, eggs, meat, poultry, and that sort of food. . and we also need a bit of dessert once or twice a week lest we get so hungry for a treat that we end up bingeing from the deprivation. If one starves themselves, they end up just killing their metabolism because when we go on a starvation diet, our bodies go into "starvation" mode and actually burn fewer and fewer calories - making any weight lost much easier to regain because of the ruined metabolism. - One of the best people I know of on the subject of "Non-Dieting" is Geneen Roth for people in their twenties, thirties and forties. She has some really good insight even though some of her thinking about social matters I differ with - but about the weight thing, she is pretty spot-on. As far as exercise, we aren't going to keep doing stuff that isn't enjoyable to us - and when we eat food that isn't enjoyable to us, we just tend to eat that and then go and raid the cookie box afterwards. (Geneen tells of one day after years of "dieting" she decided that she was going to quit starving herself to try to please others and began eating chocolate chip cookies in every form - even chocolate chip cookie dough - until she was so tired of it after about two weeks that she just naturally began craving fresh fruits, salads and good solid, sensible food. - I've pretty much been doing that for the past couple of months and have just gradually and naturally lost seven pounds. - We all need to quit agonizing about food and get up and participate, dress neatly and AS IF we are already the size we think we would like to be. We can burn calories taking even occasional short hikes, going shopping and walking around the mall, treating ourselves to a nice bath or shower with natural oils, getting an occasional massage. We don't need to obsess about the scales; just weigh maybe a couple of times a month and don't let a piece of machinery dictate what our mood will be on any given day. If someone says something rude, ignore them because they have forfeited your attention - and remember - JUST GET UP AND LIVE YOUR LIFE, and be natural and one day you're going to have shed a lot of "stuff", pounds included, but you don't have to "show" anybody anything or prove anything to anybody. Respect yourself and be happy!
This is my story... I don't have a story, exactly, it's more of a comment... I stumbled upon this site while researching for a paper I am writing for school. I am absolutely flabbergasted by the things you've all experienced. I want to find every one of you and give you a hug and then find every person that hurt you and punch them in the face. EVERY one of you deserves better than that. NO ONE deserves any of the things I've read that happened to you... I spoke with a friend and she shared with me things that happened to her. I'm not gong to spill them out here, because it's not my story to tell, but I am entirely disgusted with society. More so than when I started writing this stupid paper. I wish each and every one of you the best of luck. The future will hold something better for you. Just remember that you're awesome and they're the jerks. Top
From: SamuelH73
This is my story... I happened across this website and it definitely tugged at my heartstrings. I was a skinny child growing up; my parents were hippies after it was fashionable and raised us with all natural, no sugar/no fat foods. My mother and father did not use the guilt by comparison argument ("X is skinny; why can't you be?") or the belittling statement; with my mother no one, including me, was ever "good enough". It didn't matter what I did; it was "good, but it could be better". This, like the mother who subtly places you on a diet, is an insidious act that worms into your heart and soul; you may not realize what they are doing at first, but you know it is directed at you.
Eventually I came to the "realization" that I was not "good enough", and felt it best to do nothing. I was flawed, so why should I care about what I did or said...or looked? I spent many years looking terrible, eating anything that was placed in front of me without noticing it, all the while my mother fretting and clucking, wondering why I didn't care anymore (my mother is a selfish person, so it would not have dawned on her it was her actions which started it all). As my sisters and I were homeschooled, it wasn't too bad; peer pressure was unknown to us. Once we had to go to school, though...*sighs* I learned how to pick myself up, dust myself off and keep moving, all the while suffering the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" (or nasty kids).
I really didn't start gaining weight until I moved out; freed from my parent's dietary situation I ate sugary, fat filled stuff even more than before. I was not the only one to suffer this, though; as a result of severe depression my mother went from a thin woman to a very overweight one in the span of a few months (this was while I was still a child). My sister suffered a similar fate, even though she was active (as opposed to my mother, who did nothing but lie in bed all day). I guess I started gaining weight because of existing and developing depression (brought on by torment due to my openly professed bisexuality while I was living in Texas) and, ironically, getting married and being in comfortable surroundings (apparently, when you are in comfortable surroundings you can gain weight...I had no idea). Well, the marriage didn't work (because, surprise, I was actually gay, not bisexual) and at the age of 26 I was thrust once again into the dating world. I thought I would give it another go; after all, at this point in time I felt I needed a relationship to be happy (I have since learned that is not so). Well, it didn't quite work out that way....
The gay community is rather harsh where I am. They are highly superficial and not very kind (as well as very deep underground, given the homophobic atmosphere of Texas). My father has told me the heterosexual community is just as one dimensional and superficial (and by reading some of the terrible situations on this site, I believe it), but it is still a problem, as my dating pool is restricted a great deal more. Most gay men want thin, muscular boys, not overweight, solid men (I have a little muscle from my job, but I am certainly no Arnold). I ended up nearly committing suicide when I was 28 (one of many attempts) but at the last moment broke down and called my Dad. He and my stepmom helped me so much and were so supportive during that time. I got on medication and it really helped for a while. Unfortunately, money problems (I have no insurance) forced me to wean myself off of them (an all too common situation), but I am doing better still and my friends check on me from time to time). Ironically, the medication I took was known to enhance abdominal fat storage, so I had to choose: Be skinny and depressed or fat and relatively balanced. Tough choice.
I am gravely, deeply concerned about the number of young children (14 and younger) who are writing to this site. What does this say about our society? What does this say about people? It is a horrific, insidious disease that must be stopped somehow. If any kids are reading this, listen to what these people and these stories have to say:
It's okay. You are not alone.
I am 6'3" and 285 now; technically obese by the BMI rating (which is sort of arbitrary, I think). I don't feel or look like it, though; I have a prominent abdomen and my face is rather round, but that's it. I work in a job that demands quite a bit of walking so I am losing it a little at a time. Hopefully, I will either 1) lose the weight or 2) come to accept the fact of my weight and move on. Ultimately, I read the stories of people who are struggling with this and I understand completely...Finally a group of people who understand what I'm going through! It is a vicious little cycle, isn't it? You want people to love you, but many of them have been conditioned to equate "fat" with "unattractive" (it doesn't help that I have a face that makes a burro look pretty, and I'm being serious here. Under my list of good qualities "looks" is definitely not one of them). You see people disregard, ignore or (even worse) denigrate you, which is depressing and hurtful, which (for some) drives you to eat! I definitely eat when I am depressed or feeling sad; it is only through sheer willpower that I am able to ignore it sometimes. Yes, it is painful and agonizing...we live with it every day. It is relatively easy for me to say "Just pick yourself up and move on" because I've done it all my life; that advice may not work for you. Find the advice that suits you best and go for it.
Just remember we are all suffering from the inconsideration of not only people but society, and take strength from that.
HUGS to everyone who has written or will write to this website. Top**
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Well, it all began when I went to school two weeks ago. It was on Tuesday, when I started feeling like I needed to change. I wasn’t skinny like the rest of the girls at school. They wore there little shorts and tang tops showing their genuine legs, great firm ass and a big pair of tits to go with it. I hated looking at them because I felt like shit and not good enough to be around them. Even though they were my friends I felt insecure around them and out of place. I would go to the bathroom and see the pretty girls staring in the mirror at their ass saying things like “ Do you guys think my ass is too big?” or things like “I... so... need to lose weight, I’m gaining again!”I just looked at them and thought what the hell are they thinking and just walked out. Sometimes I would be the one looking at my self in the mirror, but what I would say is “You’re a fat ass!”or “ when are you going to lose that weight , you look ugly?”Sometimes I would cry to sleep at night looking at myself in the mirror wishing I was someone else and not me. I prayed to god that someday I could just wake up with the perfect body that can put a smile on my face. But each day I woke up like a fat butter ball. I hated the summer time because I’m too embarrassed to wear a pair of shorts since all my fat would hang out. I was always hot and wearing more clothes then normally so the guys wouldn’t laugh behind my back. I wanted someone to just turn to me for once and tell me “ your beautiful, would you like to go on a date?” But who would ask the fat girl out, right? I would go to family parties and they would tell me things like “You letting yourself go!” or “ Mija, your gaining a lot of weight for your age” oh and my ultimate favorite “ You need to stop eating so much and just eat vegetables and fruit” Yeah right like I was going to shove food I don’t like in my mouth, huh? Why did they have to tell me those things like as if I didn’t know already. It’s not as if I was the only person in the family who was fat! But since they knew I could stand it they continued to burst by bubble. I remember I was getting ready for school one morning and my grandmother was there with me. She told me I was fat and all I needed to do was not eat a lot and exercise because if I didn’t I would end up as big as my aunts. She would also tell me that no one would ever want to marry a big girl like me I told her “ No, I like being like this and I don’t care what anyone else may think of me”But in reality I didn’t mean it, I so wanted to lose weight and be skinny, but I wasn’t going to tell her that for what, so she could be right again. I don’t think so! What was I suppose to do? I tried exercising and getting hooked on diets but eventually I quit and give up. I couldn’t hang with any of it. I was a big disappointment and everyone knew it. I wished I could run instead of walking and fit into all pair of jeans that were a size 3 but I was stuck being like this! I was fatter than my mother. She looked like the daughter and I looked like the mom, how embarrassing! People would always tell her how pretty she was and how much we looked like sisters or how young my mom looked next to me. It hurt me but I just thought about what I could look like and turn away. What else was I suppose to say? I needed to get away from all this pain inside me just to get away for just a little at least to ease my mind. To wake up and get ready scared me because I had to look in the mirror looking at a girl who her jeans made her fatter then she was and her shirts looked like they were her little sisters. I started feeling really sick about my self and I started to isolate my self away from the others. My friends would tell me I wasn’t fat but I knew they were being nice to me out of kindness. Others would tell me that I wasn’t fat just chubby, and the really kind ones would tell me that skinny girls looked nasty and that they liked girls who were more like me. I still felt like shit! I mean wouldn’t you if from all your friends you had the biggest body, biggest ass and the smaller breast, come on even you can’t deny it. I wanted to commit suicide because I was just to fat to live anymore I had no one to love me and no one to even notice I was alive. What was I going to do for the next two years of high school talk to my self? Who would of gotten with me? No one I bet! My grades were slipping and I had a lot of family issues at home. So I wrote a suicide a letter to my family and friends just in case I was going to go through with it. It read...
To My Beloved Family and Friends
I never thought I would be the one to write this to you, but here I am writing. I had to leave even though you may not understand why. I wasn’t happy with my self and no one made it easy. I had to hear it all the time that I was fat and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t lose it and I tried everything. I ‘m sorry I couldn’t do it, but it’s hard when you have other things to worry about like dates, grades, how you look, who was talking about you and why you don’t look like everyone else. I was the only one from my friends who was ugly and I knew I didn’t belong. I’m sorry I left this way, but there was no other way. Just don’t forget that this was my decision and nobody’s fault. Please don’t cry over me, because I’m not worth shit! I’m sorry mom and dad but I hope things will get better.
Love always Lonnie
There it was in an envelope sealed and put away just in case. What I was planning to do is tell my parents I’m going to the store to buy some things I needed for school and go th the donkey trail up th street and cut my throat with my fathers shank. I don’t know If I was going to be found, but eventually they will and soon they will forget I ever existed. If I chickened out I was going to stop eating as much and get on the diet again and if that didn’t work I was going to consult a doctor. Well as you can tell I didn’t commit suicide and I didn’t go to the doctor either. What I did was even more sarcastic. I stared cutting and hurting my self really bad! I couldn’t stop my self I was used to the pain by now and I was really sad and depressed. No one knew what I was doing and I liked it that way. I put on a smile each day and pretend that everything was fine as usual. No one suspected a thing! Sometimes I wish they did so they would know how I’m feeling instead of suspecting that everything was just fine or thinking that I was just sick or something. Well a couple of days passed by and it was now Friday. I just did it! I grabbed the shank and took it to the donkey trail and before I left I laid it on the bed for my parents to open it. It had been twenty minutes that had passed and I was sitting on a rock thinking about how I was going to go through it when this guy came up to me out of nowhere and he told me “You’re so beautiful what are you doing here with that knife in your hand?” I was so scared, I didn’t know what to say. He was gorgeous! He was tall 6 1 to be exact, medium skin color, brown eyes, long eye lashes, a fade and was wearing a baby blue turtle neck. I couldn’t believe he was talking to me out of all people. I told him the truth and said “I ‘m here today because I’m tired of looking like this and I wanted to kill my self” He was in shock he stared in to my eyes and said “Why wold you want to hurt your self when you look so pretty? I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.” “Your crazy, Why would you tell me such lies and come try to stop me” I told him. “ I saw you from all the way over there and I needed to see you, you looked like an angel” “I don’t know what to say” I said. “ You don’t have to say anything.” He grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes and leaned over and kissed me. Wow! Can you imagine this guy out of no where stopped me from killing my self and now making me feel so special and happy! This guy saved my life! I went home after we exchanged numbers and I burned the letter on my bed and went to bed thanking god for sending Angel to me!
|| From: MaryEllen
This is my story...
To start with, I am now 45 years old, so that will at least give you a time frame of when I grew up. I fell when I was a year old and broke a leg, which set back my walking for almost a year, which afforded me the opportunity to pile on the weight. I don't know if I would have been so heavy otherwise. My school years were an absolute nightmare, I was always the biggest by a landslide, I was short, but just as wide. I was never popular, always picked last to be on a team, etc. Clothing was impossible, back then there were really no large size stores, and especially not ones for kids. I remember a period when my mother was having dresses made for me. One of the outstanding events I can remember was in the fifth grade they wheeled the scale into the classroom to weigh everyone, and I was dying a thousand deaths - and I weighed 165 at 10 years old, probably almost 100lbs more than all the other kids. I remember everyone laughing at me, and to this day cannot believe adults could inflict this kind of trauma on a
child. What were they thinking? I sometimes am amazed that I made it through school and college. I never went to the prom or any other dance, and in general was a big joke to all.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I had thin and fat years as a child but I never was anything but plump, never severely overweight, however this was enough in the third grade to save me from endless teasing. Boys would trip me as I walked back to my seat at the back of the class, and I was picked on constantly without fail. I was also very tall and large, the tallest in the class including all the boys. I got picked on for being tall as much as for being overweight. One day, in third grade, I left for school, I saw my friend Loan for a while but then she had to go to her class, on my way in a group of three boys started to harass me, calling me name after name....fatty two by four, Amazon, Earthquake girl, Piggy, Fatso etc. They shoved me and pushed me but I managed to get away! I remember feeling as a kid....I cant take this anymore.
I will say the affect of this abuse on my self esteem had long ranging effects.
That day all morning for some reason the class was ragging on me all day. I was very quiet would yell at them to shut up but to no avail. The teachers never helped, they treated me as though I deserved the abuse and even with admonishments from my parents they never took action against the constant barrage I faced.
For some reason that day, I couldn't take it anymore! I went to a small Catholic school and we had cloakrooms instead of lockers. The teacher left the room because a classmate had a terrible nosebleed. The other kids started in with their insults and I LOST IT! These insults centered on taking my lunch away and making me lose weight for my own good.
I ran into the cloakroom to get away from them and I started smashing their bagged lunches taking them out of backpacks and the like, we had no cafeteria either and I started yelling if I could eat lunch neither could they! I started smashing lunches and apples and sandwiches went flying. Then some classmates ran in. I started punching and fighting. The fight moved out into the classroom. I was so angry some kids were running! Remember I was also the largest kid in the class. I punched one boy in the jaw and knocked his twin sister to the floor! I scratched and kicked and even drew blood on a few kids with fingernails! I was totally going ballistic! I literally fought around 8-9 kids at once. I remember being so angry that there was no time for fear! The thing that was so shocking about this later to teachers is I was known as a quiet teachers pet!
The teacher came running in and was literally in shock at the disarray of her classroom. I got dragged down to the principals office where I stayed for around an hour while they contacted my mother at work.
The principle who was a nun lectured me about restraining my anger and I ignored her. After all she had let my torture continue. I was suspended for at least three days in the third grade! My mother came in, her and the principle talked about transferring me to another class and my mother told her off.
I wasn't punished because my brother and sister had told my mother of the daily abuse I had taken! My parents felt bad for me more than likely. My own brother had to fight constantly to be let alone. My parents considered transferring me to another school or at least asking for a transfer to another class. I did end up at the school. I think I may have been transferred.
It scares me because looking at photos from that time, I am maybe 25lbs overweight if that, and also very tall, far from what would be termed obese. But since I was the heaviest in the class, I was the target.
Later a heavier girl would join the class and I remember feeling relieved! She took the brunt of abuse, I would defend her at times but we were both hopelessly outnumbered. 20 years later I would see her photo in Parade magazine, it was her because it was the name of our community and I recognized her face and name talking about how she had become an anorexic and almost died in her high school years. I had moved to another state by that time! I understood why having seen her abuse.
I did have some thin years as a child. 1-2 grade I was thin and 3-4 I was fat. Starting in 5th I lost a bunch of weight and then I was fat again in the 6th for a short while and then thin again in the 7th. My treatment changed drastically with the weight. Later I would be prepared for this in adulthood where I spend years being averagely plump and then getting to the supersizes.
School can be hell on a fat kid. There is no doubt of that. Even fat boys got beat up all the time in my school. I remember a game which had a very awful disgusting name....called "Smear the Queer". I remember two larger boys in my class coming in with busted up faces and black eyes. This actually got so out of control, our principle had to cancel recess for a month!
But overall the fat kids abuse is almost mandated. Fat kids at least when I was in school never got a break and the teachers never disciplined the other kids. We were told just to lose weight. I did from time to time but the years where I was fat did affect me badly. I know this made me a more introverted person then I otherwise would have been. I also distrust groups overall. I know kids who fight back usually get treated better. After I had this huge blowout, I did buy some peaceful time for myself. But its sad state of affairs that any child should have to live like that!
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From: Eva
This is my story...
In elementary school I was teased relentlessly -- I wasn't very overweight, and the subject of the teasing wasn't my weight, but I was a target because of it. But in Jr. High and High School I developed many friendships, including with guys. In high school I began to gain lots of weight, and weighed between 180-190 lbs In my senior year (I'm 5'1"). Right before Thanksgiving, I was complaining out loud in front of my English teacher and some of my friends about how fat I looked in my homecoming dance picture (it was a very unflattering dress and angle, but now I think I looked healthy & glowing) , and my teacher began to rail on about how I had to lose weight before I went to college, or I would never have a life. I would never have a boyfriend, I wouldn't have any social life, I would never find happiness. It was at least a half an hour lecture, and in front of my friends, who were thin. After this lecture, I ran off in tears, and my friends were no help, they told me she was just saying those things for my own good.
In the end, I met my first "real" boyfriend about a month after I started college, and that relationship lasted for 2 and a half years. I had many more boyfriends and sexual affairs than my skinnier friends from high school, and I met my husband when I was 22 -- and I've been married for 8 and a half years, I have a great job, we just bought a house last year. All in all, I would say that my English teacher was wrong.
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From: Lee
This is my story...
I was a fat kid and I am a fat adult. (27.) For a brief but oh-so-amazing period in junior high, after I went to camp and played tennis and walked everywhere and rode horses and swam twelve hours a day, I was what everyone seemed to consider, slender. Then high school happened. In grade school and later on as a sophomore, I never joined clubs. I walked the halls with my head down, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes because I took up more space than the Levi's girls, the ones with the sleek size 2's that would fit only one of my legs and the Izod shirts that hung straight and clean over bellies that didn't pooch, not even a little bit. I didn't play sports because fat girls didn't play sports. I was in band because there were fat kids coming out of the woodwork in band. The true love of my life (sorry, husband of three years, also fat and very lovable) was, and is, books. The only gripe I have with books: Where are the fat spies? Where are the fat sexy princesses? The fat cops, portrayed in a good light? The fat righters of wrongs, exposers of evil, vindicators? The fat *anyone* not drawn as a lazy, corrupted, sneering s.o.b. with only one thing on his/her mind - cheeseburgers? Every heroine I meet in a book - sooner or later, she looks in a mirror, or gets described by another character, and she's...not fat. She's got blond hair, or raven-black hair, or blue or brown or flashing purple eyes, and she's got a taut toned finely honed lanky tall slender boned graceful Olympic take-me-now-or-I'll-pull-the-pin-on-this-grenade type of body.
I am beginning a book - not reading this time. Writing. My book shall be interesting, stylish, twisty, dangerous, insightful, suspenseful, full of nooks and crannies. Just like me. And my book shall have a fat heroine. Just like me.
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From: Teacher
This is my story...
School has been the best part of my life and the worst. I am 30 and still going five days a week, but on the other side of the desk. I learned my worth at home. I was raised to be strong, smart and independent. I was raised to be thin. I am not. School took everything good about me and squashed it in a tiny desk. Imagine being tall and fat and riding three to a seat in a school bus. I can hardly get my legs in when I am alone. Desks with attached chairs have always been a nightmare. Even as a middle schooler I never fit in the seat quite right. Tiny lockers and little knit gym suits did not make me happy. The year I decided to try out for basketball I warmed the bench. Pull-ups and the parallel bars made me want to throw up. Needless to say I became a shadow of a girl, quiet and shy. Walking with my head down. I worked to pass through life without imposing myself on anyone. I was pushed, shoved, elbowed and yelled obscenities at. I still am. Everyday I walk through a cafeteria filled with middle school kids. Who laugh and snicker behind their hands about my being fat. I wish that someone has taken my had during puberty and told me to put my head up and smile. Reminded me that I was smart and beautiful. No one did. So everyday I go to middle school trying to get it right, trying to make sure that no child grows-up with the hate that grown-ups show to children and children take to school. Being fat is not wrong; it is part of who I am. If I could I would still trade that away to be thin, but I can’t so I am learning to live with it. Everyday, every new town, every new job as I teach people to love me the woman and the girl that lives inside and is fat too.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
According to my pediatrician, I was always five to ten lbs. overweight since the age of seven.
I didn't suffer too much humiliation until Jr. High, when I weighed in 25 lbs. over the
weight charts. The "tub of lard" comment was the one most often thrown at me. But my worst
experience during my school years (and now at age 41 it still bothers me), was when I was in
my Junior year of high school. It was my "fattest" year of all school years. I probably was
about 190 or so, and close to the end of the year I was auditioning for the Madrigals singing
group for my senior year. I wanted to get into that group so bad, and I practiced and practiced
very hard to sing as best as I could. A lot of people were cheering me on that year, and kept
telling me I had the best alto voice compared to the other girls trying out. Well, that was
all well and good, except for one thing. The teacher didn't like fat chicks too much and
had no intention of having one in his special little singing group. So he invited me to the
call backs to throw me off the track, and then of course picked another girl who didn't sing
half as good as I did for the part. To make it even worse, he asked me to come to the choir
room during the announcement of the "winners" when I was in another class. I had to get
special permission to leave my class to go over there, only to hear the grim news - that I
hadn't made the group. All day the loud speaker kept repeating the "winners" names over and
over again, and I just felt physically ill. I went home and cried for hours.
At the end of my senior year, a fat girlfriend of mine who was a junior tried out for the
Madrigals and GOT IN! But she had an edge. Her parents were in the Music Boosters club
and donated a lot of money to the Music Dept. of the High School. Well, I guess you
have to have something extra going for you in this life when your fat. It usually isn't good
enough to just be talented. I learned that the hard way.
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From: Cat
This is my story...
My first memory about this was in the early side of grade school when I was pulled out of class a the beginning of every year to go down to the nurses office to get weighed. Of course, only the fat kids were called down to the office at that time. I suspect that at the beginning of every year, the teachers were asked who in their classes were *too* fat or *too* thin. This went on for a couple of years and I was always embarrassed to get weighed, especially in front of the other fat kids who were also in the nurses room. I can recall the coldness of the room and the pepto colored couches on either side of the room. Towards one side of the room was the entrance to the actual office of the nurse. Some years, the weighing was done in the nurse's office, but with the door open, and a couple of times the scale was in the room with the two couches while the other children watched. The looks on all of the kids' faces were horrible. I think we all knew why we were there from the moment we entered the room. Of course back in the classroom, the kids in the room also knew that the fat kids were being taken out to the *pasture*. The didn't know what was going on, of course, but they knew that we were different and completely unacceptable by societal standards. What a way to alienate the fat kids, eh?
Long about 4th grade, I had finally understood that the power of refusing to do something that I wasn't comfortable doing. My mom had always told me that, good thing to know, eh? Anyway, that year I took an empowering stand and refused to be weighed by the nurse. She was dumbfounded. Aghast too. A combination of the two, most likely. Poor Ms. Perazino had lost her power over me. What was really cool was that when I refused, other kids refused too. YAY! It was a great moment. Ya had to be there. ;-)
I believe that in years following that I was still called down, but I don't believe they ever requested me to step on the scale again.
Come junior high, not only was I called down to the nurses office at one point, but they contacted my mum and called a public health nurse to come to visit my home during the summer months. The public health nurse came to see me and my mom to talk about food portions, etc. I remember thinking that the little rubber half cup of baked beans seemed like a little amount...I guess I was a baked bean nut back then. She also during her visit asked me to step on the scale. I refused. I think she wanted my mom to force me on the scale, but instead she supported me in the decision. Way to go mom! (On a side note, my mom was fairly thin all of her life...she hovered between size 10 and 14 most of the time. When she was ill I believe she got up to a size 20...nowhere near to my size.) Anyway, that refusal was another victory for me and my wee self esteem.
In high school I was contacted one time about my weight by the nurse. A huge issue was not made of my weight...that I knew of...
Long about 19 years old when I was taking care of my ailing mother (she died of emphysema related complications when I was 20...), my mom and I talked about a lot of things that she normally protected me against. She spoke one time about the calls she would get from the high school nurse and counselor about my weight. I had no idea they even contacted her at that time. Anyway, the counselor and/or nurse made comments to her that I would "never amount to anything" and "never have a *normal* social life" or life at all unless I lost weight. What was really curious about it in retrospect was that I had a very active social life, I was involved in a ton of after school activities, I was the editor of the high school yearbook, I was the treasurer then president of the Thespians, I helped start the video yearbook, I had a decent grade point average, etc, etc, etc. This was in a school of 2,100 kids, so no small feat to be accomplished with so many others waiting to fill in the gaps. What were they basing this diatribe upon? Their own failings in life that they blindly based upon one's weight? Anyway, I'm sure as a mother she hated to hear those things. I felt bad for her when she told me....to basically be told that she had failed as a mother 'cuz I would be such an unproductive citizen when I left the school. What a horrible thing to hear on the other end of the phone, eh? I felt so bitterly angry at the Stillwater School district for doing that and believing their own diatribes so much that they would call parents and harass them. How simply wrong they were.
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From: ashamed of my body
This is my story...
I wake up every morning hoping something would be different. I go to the bathroom and look at myself with pity. As I get ready I think about the awful comments from the day before. Just the typical name "fatty" is horrible makes me want to die.
I walk to school and try to ignore the staring and whispering that goes on right in front of my eyes. I arrive at school to no friends and no one to talk to. I watch the other girls giggle to their boyfriend wondering what that would be like.
As the day goes on, lunch comes. I wait in line trying to decide from the big selection of food. More people stare at me as I get more food then an average kid but I'm use to it. I sit isolated from the others and eat my food waiting for lunch to be over. It's a half an hour lunch which seems like an hour and a half. I finish eating after about 10 minutes thinking, "I shouldn't have eaten that, I'm just going to get more fat!"
the day finishes and I think to myself, "aww, I completed another day. Tomorrow will be different!" But really think its going to be the same like always.
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From: Maura
This is my story...
I started to get heavy at around the age of nine. I remember that when I moved to a new town things really started to get bad as far as teasing was concerned. It was 1990 -- and I remember getting on the school bus, all excited because it was the last day of school before Xmas. The boys in the back of the bus were singing the New Kid's on the Block song, "Hangin' tough." The last line of the song is "you know it aint over till the fat lady sings!" After singing this, the boys yelled to me...hey Maura -- you're cue! The bus roared with laughter and I felt hot tears rolling down my cheeks. The harassment continued throughout middle school where I would spend each lunch period in the bathroom stall bawling my eyes out because the kids in my grade would moo at me when I walked into a classroom. Eventually I stopped raising my hand and kept my mouth shut in school...I would come home each day and lie on my bed and cry. When I hit high school the teasing got worse and I decided I wasn't going to take it anymore. I went on a crash diet and lost 70 lbs. Because I lost the weight so quickly I now have horrible circulation in my hands and feet. I have managed to keep the weight off but I am obsessed with how I look. Everywhere I go I feel like I am the fattest person in the room. I feel like no man will ever love me because of how disgusting my body is (I weigh 135 and am 5'6). I run every day and follow a strict diet. As of now I am a size 9, but I still feel like I look about a size 16! I weigh myself about 4 times a day and if I gain even a TENTH of a pound my week is ruined. My obsession about my weight is totally unhealthy. I became bulimic last year (my sophomore year in college) and have been making myself throw up on and off since then. My digestive system is a wreck from my abuse of laxatives. I also started chain smoking cigarettes to lose more weight. I hope that one day I can come to terms with my weight. I still feel the pain of being tormented as a child and I know that my whole life I will still feel like a "fat slob" because that's what I was labeled as a kid. Throughout high school I tried to commit suicide about 4 times. I am happier now, but I know that my obsession with how I look and my unhealthy attitude about my weight are not going to leave any time soon. I'm now in therapy and working to kick the bulimia. I wanted to share my story because even though I suffered a great deal as a "fat kid" I am trying to turn my life around and learn to love myself for who I am.
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From: smarty
This is my story...
For some strange reason gym teachers are unmerciful to overweight kids. I remember my fourth grade P.E teacher saying to in disgust...''Cathy, you're just so slow" like it was a vice I had. One time while my classmates and I were all in line, cutting up, laughing and talking, he singled me out and
said..''shut your big fat mouth'' All the boys laughed, hooped and hollered,
and the girls just looked at me with pity.....I wanted to die and fade away
...By the time ninth grade came....I had starved myself by eating one
Popsicle a day and riding my bike 2 miles. I have no idea why I did not end
up in the hospital. Anyway, with my new slender body in tow, I entered high
school, not prepared for all the attention the upper classmen gave me. I
relish in the next four years of dates, parties, and cool clothes. I married
my high school sweet heart, gained most of the weight back, after our first
child was born. Today I am close to 300 pounds and miserable, but there is
hope because I am exercising everyday and feeling
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From: Leah K. Palmer
This is my story...
I was walking home from middle school one day.
We had small wooded area across from the school and there
was a bridge across a small stream. Some kids that had
always tortured me for being fat were waiting for me there
and stuck burrs in my shoulder length hair. They also punched me,
kicked me and knocked me down and ran off laughing, calling me names
as they left. I ran back to the school, but it was no use.
My hair had to be cut short. It was one of the worst experiences of
my life. I also had my face shoved into snow banks and had my glasses
broken. I'm still fat, but healthy. I'm not obsessed
with my weight, but I do hike, bike, and try to play tennis when I can find a partner
, because I have a hard time sitting still. Also, I'm happy now :)
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From: Big Girl Mary
This is my story...
I never really thought about my weight until one of my classmates in high school pointed out that I did not have a flat stomach. I never even knew that was something to concerned about. The funny thing was, looking back I wasn't fat. I was strong and athletic, running track and playing tennis. However I was larger than my classmates at that age and that was the problem. I did have a small belly and even my friends would point that out and poke me like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.
The worst day was one of our track meets; one of the girls had forgotten her shorts. Since I did not have to run until later I loaned her mine. Well she was very thin and as she ran around the track the shorts began falling down and she had to hold on with one hand. The coaches thought it was hysterical- I'm sure it was but not to me.
As a result all throughout high school I wouldn't go shopping because I knew that I was too fat to wear nice clothes. I wouldn't attend any regular dances or the prom or other school events because I knew I wouldn't look good in a dress, and because I wouldn't go shopping, didn't have any decent clothes. I wore jeans and sweatpants.
At home my mother wore a size 6 and constantly fretted about her weight. Her siblings were all larger than her and she was always trying to be thinner and then claiming that they held it against her. She would bake brownies, cookies, and cake- and then sample a tiny corner- and then offer me the entire painful. She continued that on through my college years, playing on my now-ingrained paranoia of fat and appearance and my simultaneous longing for the comfortable and familiar.
I went from a healthy size 11 in high school- not fat at all- to years and years of bulimia and compulsive eating. I still won't go shopping and now the dread of going to school has been replaced by the dread of going to work. I see all the thin women in their stylish clothes and I can't speak. I just go to my computer and stay there all day. I dread being anywhere in public, and fantasize about 'running away'-just hopping on a greyhound and leaving. The sad part is, I know that I would still feel the same wherever I ended up.
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From: Julianne
This is my story...
I remember on the evening of the annual Christmas concert in third grade, I had gotten ready and was eager to sing carols with my class in front of the entire school. My mom had hand-sewn me a long red dress with sequins on it, she had put my hair up, and I wore a gold necklace. When I had looked in the mirror at home, I really thought I looked pretty that night. But when I walked into my classroom just before the concert, the entire class of kids howled with laughter at me! What was so funny about the way I looked, I wondered. Maybe part of the reason was that I rarely ever wore dresses to school, I usually dressed like a tomboy. But I know the main reason was that at age 9 I weighed about 115 pounds. I don't know how I managed it, but I went ahead and sang with my class. I was used to being laughed at, so it was nothing new. Anyway, today I am a 31-year-old mother of two beautiful little girls, who so far do NOT have weight problems. I am normal-weight today, about 140 pounds- less than I weighed in the fifth grade. If either of my girls do develop a weight problem, I will pull them out of school and home-school them. I want them to grow up feeling good about themselves and valued as special people, because I wasn't. If anything good came out of being overweight as a kid, it is that I accept all people and try not to judge them based on appearance.
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From: Not Porkchop
This is my story...
It started around third grade, after I got my cast off. There is so much to tell about my experience in grade school, but I will try to keep it short, just to give you an idea of the torment I went through.
~Running the track for gym, some kids would run behind and beside me calling, "Come on Pork chop!"
~Our classes had to walk in a line down the hall, and a girl walking beside me told me to watch out for the hippo behind me (referring to my butt).
~When playing jump rope, they would make me twirl the rope because if I jumped I would go through the floor.
~When playing kick ball, the ball went into the woods, and they made me go get it. The ball hit a sharp stick and was deflated, so they blamed me and said I must have sat on it.
~My best friend, (who was also my cousin) stuck up for me sometimes, but she too chimed in sometimes, because I'm sure she didn't like going against everyone else all the time, and I oddly understood that.
~ On a field trip, we stopped at McDonald's for lunch. Two girls asked me to sit by them, so I was excited, and eagerly did. One of them asked if I wanted her hamburger, and I told her "no thanks." She started breaking off small pieces of it and threw it across the table at me. I perceived this as sort of a game, so I did the same to her. She immediately blew up, grabbed her remaining hamburger and smeared it into my face. (I think it was because she wanted to show the other classmates what would happen when "the fat girl" messed with her) I ran to the bathroom to clean it off, and when I got back I took a sip of my pop, which they had poured salt and pepper in. They sat around laughing at my disgusted face, and I was so embarrassed.
~There was a bridge on our playground that you could walk on, or under, and while I was walking under, some kids would spit on my head.
~When I was swinging on the swings, some girls came up behind me and grabbed my legs as I was going up, so I nearly fell over.
~The end of fourth grade there was a new girl in school. Towards the end of the year we started calling each other, and by the time summer came, we were inseparable. When the phone rang, it was always her, and I was ALWAYS on the phone with her. She called me once, at the end of the summer, 6 days before school started. She had been talking to some of the other girls at our school, and all she told me was "don't ever call me again, and don't tell anyone I talked to you this summer. It never happened." I think that's what hurt the most out of everything.
~ I remember sitting in the bathroom, on the counter, holding a bottle of aspirin, debating. I wanted to just down them, and end everything. I did this numerous times, and if I wasn't so afraid, I know I would have done it.
~Numerous times, while being harassed, I would tell the teachers, and they would either tell me, "if it happens again, let me know." or they would talk to the kid and say, "Now that wasn't very nice, don't let it happen again." which of course didn't help. No serious action was ever taken.
~My parents were usually pretty supportive, and they would tell if the teachers wouldn't do anything, then just punch the kid in the nose, teach them a lesson. Well, I was always much too afraid to do this until one day I just didn't think about it. This girl was sitting behind me in music class and was pulling my hair. I turned around and told her to stop. She continued. I told her again, and again she continued. Finally I turned around and back handed her right across the face. We were both sent to the principal's office. My parents came to school the next day and told the principal just what was going on, and he suspended the girl and I was given no punishment.
I eventually had to go to the school board and request a transfer. I had to write them a letter, because I was staying in north Dakota at the time. My parents represented me at the meeting and gave them the letter. I was told that many of the members were in tears, and all were touched. It's just sad that they wouldn't do anything before, they hear stories like this, and they cry, but they still don't do anything. It was too late for me, but not for the others still going through that. I was granted the transfer, and open enrolled at the public school in a neighboring town. The bus was not allowed to go outside the district, so I had to walk a half a mile to the nearest bus stop before and after school. The first year it was really hard to adjust. I was paranoid of everyone, and was always assuming every laugh was about me, which of course was not true. I am now a junior in the high school, and am far from an outcast. I have many friends, and am included in all the parties and conversations. Although there are occasionally some assholes, most people in my school look down on them for it. When I look back to how things used to be, I feel so pathetic, like how could I just let them do that to me? It has not made me stronger, like most people might think, but instead, weaker, because every little weight comment brings me back to the pain I used to feel, and it resurfaces. Losing weight seems so easy, and because of that I get so mad at myself sometimes for not just doing it, but the more mad I get, the less it helps, so I have decided to just be me, and if I lose weight, great, if not, oh well.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
When I was a kid, I had it rough. I was tall, but overweight. I had lots of friend, but people were mean to me. Kids would say I was fat, and then ask me how much I weighed. I didn't answer, all I could do was get out of everyone and just cry. I remember a couple stories that I can relate to. Most things happened in 6th grade. I just moved and made many new friends. Starting a middle school is hard. The eight graders would pick on me and say mean things. Once, an eight grader was walking by my locker and said, "how's your diet going Fat girl!" and then in gym, we were running and doing tumbling. A 7th grader saw me running around and telling people I had packs of blubber. I soon found out when a 6th grader not from my classes says, "Hey tubby! 7th graders are saying your packs of blubber shake when you run! They saw you in gym with your stomach shaking. You are the sickest fattest kid I've ever seen." This all happened the same day. I never felt so humiliated and sad in my life.
When I finally got into 7th grade, I gained about 20lbs. The kids started calling me blub blubly tubbers. That's kind of stupid but really true. Everyone started asking how I weighed. I told them how much, and they spread it around the 7th grade.
Finally my dance recital came. My costume was a short top and a biker shorts bottom. We did a performance for my school and another school. My "so called" friends said my stomach shook the whole time, and that I had sags sticking out. Soon I dumped my friends.
That is my story of my middle school years. I had a hard time in school, but the best part is, I liked who I was, and I didn't care what anyone thought of me.
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From: Genifra
This is my story...
I hope this will be cathartic, as I've shoved these memories back pretty far. I was pretty chubby in elementary school, but I generally had a lot of friends. There were, of course, jerks that teased me. One day after school, I got beat up by two of them. That was a horrible day. I don't even remember why it happened. But P.E. was the worst. I could never climb the rope; I just tried for a couple seconds and then quit. The teacher didn't push me. When we ran the mile, I knew I'd be last. That's a humiliating feeling, knowing that everyone's been sitting there at the finish line for several minutes, waiting for you--and then when they try to be supportive, cheering you on, you only abhor their pity. Things weren't that great at home either. When the neighbor kids would insult me, right to my face with my dad standing right there, my dad wouldn't do or say anything. He never stood up for me, and I hated him for that. I guess I still do. I still don't trust him at all.
But life became hell in junior high. My friends abandoned me; I was alone. I couldn't fit into all the cool clothes, the Guess jeans. My weight ballooned. Once again, I dreaded gym class. Even now, I sometimes dream about that panic that would haunt me all day. When we ran around the block, my tight shorts would constantly ride up because my legs were so fat, and I'd be pulling them down as people laughed at me -- girls I thought were somewhat friendly to me. I remember one day, I was walking down the hall to class, and this girl (blond hair, thick glasses, I forget her name) said, Hurry up, fatso! I felt like a knife had been shoved in my chest, it hurt that bad. I somehow survived the day, but when I got into the car after school, I just sobbed. I had few if no friends, and didn't believe the gifted child teachers when they told me I was smart and could write. All I did was listen to heavy metal and fantasize about killing myself.
So the next year, I left the public school system and went to a private school. Which, I can honestly say, was the best move of my life. My life's never been the same. Found amazing friends, went to a great college, now I'm a journalism who *knows* I'm a good writer. Still struggle with weight, and always will--but I'm ok.
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From: Fat Me
This is my story...
I have been fat as long as can remember. My weight wasn't much as an issue at school until 6th grade, but junior high was the worst. I had only a few friends, but only for a short time. I felt very alone. The hatred of others for me because of my size, looks, and disability, was so strong that at times it seemed that I could feel and smell it, taste it's bitterness. Constant harassment, including sexual harassment, threats, and physical abuse filled many days before, during and after school. When I told my parents about what was going on at school they either laughed and told me that I deserved it for being the way I was, or just said to ignore it. Even though I felt bad about myself, wishing to be thin, I mainly got more and more angry. In 9th grade I started to fight back some, but wasn't very successful because there were to many of them and they were able to take advantage of my disability. The school wasn't willing to do anything to help until I told a counselor that I felt like killing some of the other kids. (I thought that I might lose control and go to far in defending myself one day, but I didn't really want to hurt anyone. But mostly I wanted to get them to realize that they couldn't ignore it anymore.) Although I assured her that I was not planning to do anything, and did not have access to weapons, the possibility of thin and nondisabled kids getting hurt really got the schools attention. They did tell the other kids not to bother me anymore, not because they though I deserved to be treated better, but for their own good. The counselor even asked what I would do without the abuse, as if I really needed and wanted it. But I was happy to be without it anyway.
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From: Elizabeth
This is my story...
I have always felt different. The feelings were bad at first especially during high school. I was a large person (and still am) but I had people call me name like hippo, fatso, lard, etc. but I took it. I had all my life. I did hate going to school, though. There was one instance I had a girl to ask me if I had sex yet. I told her no and she responded saying "What, no one can get between those fat legs of yours,"
I didn't respond to the taunt but walked away feeling bad.
But the good news is that they people who did taunt me asked me to forgive them, and of course I did. I even had one guy, who picked on me a great deal, call me up one night and ask me to forgive him. I told him that of course I forgave him.
I don't like holding grudges against people, it makes me feel rotten. I enjoy life to the fullest, doing things that I like to do. I am in college now, going for my second degree. I enjoy school now and I want to learn.
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From: Discovering
This is my story...
For as long as I can remember I have been unhappy and have hated my body. Well, I guess when I was ten years old, I used to cry myself to sleep every night. Every morning I would wake up and look at my thighs and hope for them to be smaller, thinner, more beautiful. When I was eleven I started to cut back what I ate. First I skipped breakfast and then I began to forgo lunch. Finally, I was becoming thin! I started to make excuses to my family for not eating dinner. I lost a lot of weight until I became a mere skeleton of what I once was. The following year in school, things started to change for me I became very popular and had a boyfriend and was invited to all the cool parties. I started eating again with my friends and felt "normal". The weight slowly crept back on until I was bigger that I had been a year ago. High school was a constant fight with anorexia and bulimia and suicidal thoughts/attempts. From the outside, I looked like a happy, healthy, smart girl. Inside I was falling apart. In my final year of high school things started to change for the better. I began to like who I was and take pride in my many accomplishments. My weight remained at a comfortable, healthy level. I went away to University on a full scholarship as a happy and healthy woman with a wonderful boyfriend. It wasn't until my second year when I broke up with my boyfriend that I started gaining weight and eating compulsively again. I was in a very high stress program and constantly turned to food for comfort. To compensate for all the food I was eating, I was making myself throw up 5-10 times per day, every day. I ripped up my entire GI track and created scars on my hands and mouth. I was actually still gaining weight though, because of the large quantities of food I was consuming. I met a wonderful man at the peak of my weight gain, which provided me with enough incentive to lose weight. Things got worse: I would eat scarely all day and if I did eat I would make myself throw it up. I kept losing the weight until I weighted under 90lb at 5'6. I could barely go to work anymore I was so weak. I finally got counseling, in order to gain weight, and more importantly to learn to love myself no matter what I weigh. I now work very hard at loving every aspect of myself, including my body... even when I don't fit into the bikinis that all my friends are wearing. I am me, and I make a contribution to the variety of talents and personalities the world has to offer. My life does not require me to be thin... just healthy. I wish that I had of sought help earlier, when I was bigger, to save my body a lot of hardship. Compulsive Eating is a disorder, whether you are 100lb or 300lb. There are people that can help the constant obsession with food. If you think about food/weight all the time love yourself just enough to seek help to learn to really love yourself.
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From: Elizabeth
This is my story...
I always had a "weight problem" (I was Fat) from the time I was around 2 1/2 years old. My sister, was seven years older was very tall and thin, and thought everyone should be like her, so from a very young age (4 or so) I was very aware that I was socially unacceptable and a source of embarrassment for my family because I was FAT. When I went to kindergarten at 5, this was so ingrained, that I sucked in my stomach when they took my school picture. I didn't understand that the picture was just of my chest and head. Actually it turned out to be a pretty cute picture.
The most outstandingly negative year in my life was the fourth grade with Mrs. Osborne. She was fairly elderly at that time and wore orthopedic shoes. I'm sure she was a kind, good person in her way, but she was first class busy body. We were studying about means and medians and averages in math and there was a problem in the book for getting the average of your classes height. Well you guessed it, she decided (probably for the first time in her life!) that "going by the book" was not good enough. We were going to get the average of our classes weight! Luckily she did not drag a scale in, and being in a small private school we did not have a real nurse's office, so we were allowed to weigh at home and record our weights in class. I will say, she allowed me to be the one who stood up in front and called the roll so I didn't have to shout out my weight to everyone, but of course there was a lot of snickering, jokes etc. And of course I lied by about 20 pounds...I can't believe that she thought this little play would fool anyone. She just had to know how much I weighed...did she so underestimate me as to think I would actually tell the truth?
There were many other episodes...including her periodically checking my sack lunch to make sure I didn't have any fried chicken with gravy and chocolate cream pie in there. This was, of course, done in front of the whole class.
My life at school was full of these episodes. Can you imagine the temptation, when around 5 or 10 years ago, I received a letter from the alumni association saying that the wonderful Mrs. Osborne was finally retiring after years and years and we were going to present her with a book of memories from her former students. They asked that everybody send in a small blurb of something they remembered about her. It was so tempting, even though I knew they would never print it. But by that time I had started to realize that unless you let go of the anger, it continues to hurt you. Sometimes I wonder what I would be like if I hadn't been FAT. Certainly I would have been very different. By the way, my sister and I are finally friends at the ages of 43 and 50. She has expressed to me in many ways and times her regret for her part in my misery. Also, I wanted to say that I never told my parents about these experiences until much later. Now I know they would have been in the headmasters office in a minute, but I never gave them the chance to stand up for me. I guess I thought I deserved to be treated in that way because I was FAT. Kind of Like being born black in the deep south...
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From: Alice
This is my story...
I grew up in Rhode Island and the local zoo had an elephant named "Alice". Needless to say I was called "Alice the Elephant" or Alice the Palace, big fat Alice. This was hurtful and at first I would go home and cry and later I struck back at those who made fun of me by fighting. I am now 46 years old and relatively thin 5'8" 144 lbs. but to this day if anyone looks at me I think they are laughing at me because I'm fat. The scars never go away!
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From: Gabi
This is my story...
I guess mine is a "good" fat kid story...at 5'5" and about 200 lbs, I guess I was big. But it never really bothered me...no one ever made fun of me, and if they did, it was behind my back, and if I caught wind of it, I just thought, "Oh well, they're just jealous." And I had reason to say that...
In High School, I, one of the "fat kids" was captain of two cheerleading squads, on our schools competing color guard (which, mind you, wore cute, tight, WHITE uniforms) and in three separate, competing, by audition only choir groups (yes, the fat lady does sing!!). All of the groups I was in had critical audition processes to go through, and not only did I land a spot on all of them, I was captain for the cheerleading squad and for the large choir group. PLUS, I was dating the hottest guy on the hockey team...it was wonderful!
So just remember that even if you are "fat," it's all how you carry yourself. I never, ever let my weight get a hold of me. I carried myself with my head high, and wearing the "cool" clothes. I had a HUGE network of friends, and I was my own person. It made me even more confident than ever, and now I'm on my way to success in college...I'm in a sorority and I've joined the University's color guard. HOLD YOUR HEADS UP PROUD!
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From: anonymous
This is my story...
Imagine this. You are at the front blackboard. You are fourteen and FAT! Why did that nun put me here anyway? All the boys are snickering as only fourteen year old boys can. I know it. I hate it. I wipe down the blackboard when I am through, but it is not good enough for Sister X. She scornfully tells me that laziness is probably why I am so fat. Today I am seventy-five years old, but that day is still with me.
P.S. I'm still a large lady.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I am over 50 years old and this is the first time I have had the courage to put these feelings in actual words. Something happened between my first and second grade years in school. I became "fat". I lived in a very rural area and went to an extremely small school, and the teasing was unbearable. One of the memories that stands out the most happened in the fourth grade. Our teacher was a very critical, unlikable person. She was married, but had no children and didn't even like children I don't think. At the beginning of the year, all students had to be weighed. You can imagine the "sinking" feeling I had the morning I walked into the classroom and saw those scales. The teacher decided that it would be fun to see which row of students weighed the most. Of course, you can imagine the comments made by the other students--"we know which row will win, how could it lose when ??? is sitting on that row", and other hurting comments. I still can't cope with some of the feelings I had back in those days; I just shove them to the back of my mind. As with most "fat" children, I struggled with diets all of my life. My mother was a person of different personalities; one day the supportive loving parent, the next day-one who constantly make comments about how cute the other girls in school were. She would also make snide remarks when I ate a candy bar or some other sweet. The first two years of high school were horrible, but I managed to lose a considerable amount of weight between my sophomore and junior years--thus making my last two years of high school bearable. I never dated any boys from my high school; I think I remembered all of the hateful taunts they had made through the years. I did have dates and was an Honor Student with a very high GPA. I went to the local community college where I thought it was great to live in a dorm room and be out of the every present criticism of my mother. I met my husband and married after one year of college; I could not believe that a football star and very popular guy would want to date me. Neither could several of the girls in college. He was a few years older and a college graduate. He has always been a great guy; but I have always felt like I had to work to deserve him. That is the worse feeling I have today. I always feel as if I have to "earn" everyone's approval by doing "things" for them. I am a successful educator with a Master's Degree and certifications in several areas, but I am still that insecure "fat child" most of the time. It doesn't help that my mother-in-law, my husband's two sisters, and my brother's wife are all model thin and when we are together, all they talk about is the fact that they need to lose weight or about how much they actually weigh. I'm sure this is directed toward me. I wish I could develop that self-esteem I read in some of the stories, but I guess I never will. Thanks for letting me express feeling that are over forty years old.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I can't remember if I was a sophomore or a junior in high school, but one day, I was walking through the campus of the college in my town. I don't know why I was there. But, I was walking back towards the bus stop and a group of guys were in the back of a pick-up truck and as they drove past me, they squirted me with a water gun. They were laughing and saying something about getting the fat chick all wet. I remembered thinking that these guys were in *college* and they were acting like that?? Luckily, I never suffered the abuse like others I've read about but the guys in my high school did make it painfully obvious that I wasn't desirable because I was fat. But I figured it would end as the guys got older. However, there I was, on a college campus, being squirted with water by college guys.
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From: theresa
This is my story...
As a parent I am submitting this article after an experience my oldest child had in middle school. After coming home from 7th grade one day she told me, "Mom you may be getting a phone call from the school today." Naturally my blood pressure shot up because never had I received a disciplinary phone call about her. She told me the following, of which I am and still so very proud of her today : PE was coed at that large middle school and the students were running their mile. Of course, the heaviest boy was coming in last while the others had well finished the course minutes ahead of him. He was puffing and doing his best to come on in while the others waited on him. Then some students began to get impatient and someone blurted out to the coach, "Well coach, just how much does ------- Weigh?" At that the coach yelled out the student's weight, something like "255!" Of course some kids laughed, etc. but this infuriated my 12 year old daughter and SHE blurted right out to the coach, who needed to lose a few pounds of his own, " Why don't you just tell us YOUR weight coach!" to which this shut him up. She was expecting repercussions from this and I told her she did the right thing and I would be ready and waiting for that phone call, which by the way Never came!!!!! She said she would always make an extra effort to acknowledge him at school so that he would know someone truly cared about him as a human being. I re-tell this story when the subject of "standing up for yourself, or someone else" comes up, or "one of my proudest moments as a mom" story and it gets such wonderful comments you would not believe.
She is now a beautiful 22 year old woman about to graduate from Texas A&M university and still carries that compassion and caring in her heart for others today as she did that tall, gangly school girl she was in middle school in 1991. I have almost thought about submitting this article to the authors of "Chicken soup for the soul". You have my permission to do so if you feel.
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From: Kel
This is my story...
I remember 1985 and sitting in my school hallway at lunch time just as if it were yesterday. I was a senior and weighed 198 lbs. I was reading a book at lunchtime sitting in the floor in the upstairs hallway, by myself in front of my locker. I wouldn't eat lunch in the lunchroom with the students, because I didn't want them to see me eating and make comments to me. So, I just took some "junk" from home and ate it upstairs alone. Well, here came 2 guys that were good at making fun of me. One hollered down the hallway at the other, "Hey, what time is it?" The other said, "Well, how am I supposed to know, do I look like Big Ben? Here's Kelly, ask her." Why??? I wasn't bothering anybody, I was by myself. I'm 33 now, heavier than ever and still even as an adult I can see how I'm treated by some of my co-workers.
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From: la la la
This is my story...
ok, the heaviest I have been is 275. the thinnest I have been is 147. I am like 183 now. I gained weight again when I went to college...I'm trying to take it off again...In 8th grade I was in pre-Algebra. I sat by this kid named Nieto Ray. He was so terrible to me. I understood I was heavy and needed to gain control, but I couldn't understand why people where so cruel to me. It's not like I was evil in anyway or had killed the Pope. I remember during class one day Nieto Ray told me I was so fat, and that if I died nobody would care. That day I went home and attempted to kill myself. I was put into the hospital for 2 weeks. Yet again, in 9th grade, I got Nieto Ray in my math class again. This time he sat next to me again. He would still say the most cruel things. One day I had enough, and I went to the principle. The principle called in Nieto Ray and told him to stop. Did he? Nooooo. Instead he got his friends to join in when it came to making my life a living hell. I tried to kill myself again. This time I was put into the hospital for a month. I remember walking into class and having people say "here come the heifer." I remember crying in the bathroom, or faking sick so I wouldn't have to go to school. I remember praying to go to jut make me go away.
Today I suffer from bulimia and hate to go out. I have succeeded in one thing, getting an education. If anything, my being fat has made me stronger...I wish people weren't so mean.
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From: Louise
This is my story...
As a little girl I went to a church school and the only difference I noticed between my size and the size of the others in my class was that a) I was a lot taller than most of them and b) you couldn't see my ribs when I changed for gym.
When I was 6 I had to visit a doctor who kept weighing and measuring me and then asked a lot of questions about what I ate, and did some of those skin prick tests. My parents told me it was because I needed a check up. I later found out my headmistress had told them to send me there because I was too heavy for a girl of my age.
Then when I was 8 we moved to France. Even then I didn't realize I was fat, until one day I got off the bus and a girl shouted "Bye, Ashley" (my friend), "Bye Fatso" (me). I told my parents and they said I wasn't fat and should ignore it. This girl, and all her horrible friends, carried on with it though, on the bus they used to push me around and call me a fat cow, fat bitch, etc. My father went to the school to get it stopped because they covered me in Dr Pepper, however he said he wouldn't have done anything if that hadn't happened, because names couldn't hurt me. How wrong he was.
Two years later I appeared in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. My best friend was there too and we were being measured for dresses. The woman measured me but not my slim friend: she just added three inches to the height and removed six inches from the measurement. I was absolutely stunned, to think that I was that big compared to her.
Six months after THAT we were both being teased at school, by kids who used to spit at us and push us around. I heard them talking about a new girl in my class, who was much bigger than me and they said "She's even fatter than Louise." That REALLY hurt.
Now I'm 14 and still big, and always on a diet. I think I'm slimmer now than I used to be, though. It is weird, being so big makes me think fat is bad and ugly, but if I was thin I know I'd say it's important to accept fat people. The good thing is, nobody bullies me about my size any more. Maybe that should just be enough.
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From: bambi bators
This is my story...
I hated school and who wouldn't if you were anything like me. I was always "different", I liked music more than the latest trends and I thought for myself. I was always the last person chosen for gym class and in volleyball the other girls aimed at my head. It was humiliating. When puberty hit it only got worse I wasn't skinny anymore. In retrospect I was average weight but the standards were so high. Average wasn't enough. I was called fat all the time because my hip bones did not protrude enough. Add the fact that I also got into Goth/punk before it was more commonplace so being weird AND fat was apparently unforgivable by my peers. I did my best to get out of the experience in one piece thinking someday I could overcome the narrow mindedness. Unfortunately being an adult is worse. The playground is often just as bad and the stakes are higher. I have dealt with loving someone who wanted a supermodel, size prejudice in the workplace, self esteem issues. I try not to carry my school days with me. I work on loving myself but I still have those scars. The feeling of never being quite good enough follows me around like a lost puppy.
For all the fat kids in school....believe in yourself. Get everything in check before it takes over your life.
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From: me and my fat
This is my story...
Well where should I start?? I'm 16 at the end of this month and I thought id share with you my story....
I was a skinny little girl at junior school and some times y mm would get worried that there was something wrong with me, at 7 I had my tonsils removed and I began putting on weight it wasn't too bad! Through primary school id get the odd spiteful remark, then I started secondary school and every thing changed, I started a school with few friends and with in the first few months I had none I was miserable, unhappy and FAT! At lunch time I would stay in the toilets and eat my packed lunch rather than face the loneliness and torments of other people I would stand in the cubical and move from one to the other in case anyone thought I was up 2 something to try and divert there attention, and I would stand there and cry, I through myself into my school work rather than make friends which got me a name of a "boffin" which I wasn't I didn't make any close fiends for a while and would often sat in my room and watch the light bulb swinging from he cable an which I had the guts to get a rope and tie myself up, but I couldn't ever do it I couldn't put my family through that, I used 2 fake being ill rather than go 2 school and id go for weeks without doing p.e, my teacher often got me into her office and looked at me in disgust and have a go at me for not doing p.e, she told me off for coming last in running round the field and told me off for not wearing shorts the summer months (did she really think I enjoyed it?? it was either that or show off my flabby legs).
There was one boy in particular who just would not leave me alone and constantly picked on me everywhere I turned he was there laughing at me he was so intimidating! I was always reporting him to the teachers but because he had problems of his own not much was said! One day I came home and told my mum that he threaten to smash my dads head in with a bat! She phoned my dad (who isn't a particularly fat man but quite broad and strong and it shows) he took me round this boy's house and had a word with him and is mum with me.... and well this boy hasn't looked me in the eye since!! I began hanging around with some girls who I though were my friends they used to taunt me and push me over because they thought it was funny to se me "bouncing" on the floor they thought it was funny to see me run to the toilets in tears! I went on a diet with one of them we wet to all the classes and I stuck to it religiously it was quite high in fiber and I think I did it wrong because it didn't work this girl went around school telling people how much I weighed one day I was eating my sandwich and another girl started on me (I hadn't even said a word to her) she started laughing at me calling me a fat cow there were about 10 other girls around me they just stood there and watched some even sniggered when she finished shouting at me she carried on talking to her mates as if nothing had happened I felt the hot tears run down my face and a lump in my throat I couldn't say anything I mean she was the "leader" of my group how could I have go at her? (Even now as I think about I my eyes are filling up with tears as the memory is coming back), my family did support me but hey weren't fully aware of what was happing and how unhappy I was!
From that day on I decided I would make myself a better person then any of them so I found a group of friends who were nice to me (last year) and I began to settle in (after 3yrs of torment) I went on a diet with my mum and lost just over 2 stone I felt so happy everything was falling into place I now have a social life and am never at home Friday nights and Saturdays its brilliant!!! Although I still have a weight problem and its begging to creep back on I can manage it, although I haven't had a boyfriend well ever I start collage and hopefully I can get away from the immature spiteful mouthed teenagers and may be meet someone??? It's always a possibility!!! But I still have no confidence I myself and I still blush every time anyone talks to me but I am becoming slightly more confident with me and now I'm getting away from those memories that people have of me and in a way starting a new life for myself!!! Just remember to look after yourself and don’t let people who make your life a misery because they shouldn't get away with it!!!!!
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From: BigA
This is my story...
This is not my story it's my daughters. Since she started school she was tormented by other kids EVERY single day. In kindergarten she was told she could not sit at their table - she was too fat. Every day in school they would verbally abuse her by asking her how many lunches she would eat or shout "MOOOOOOve over cattle crossing." I called the Minisink school district and asked them to have a assembly on peer pressure and abuse to overweight students. They said kids will be kids. Well because of the non-caring teachers my daughter had made the wrong friends because she wanted one so bad, wanted to commit suicide, ended up in a diagnostic center because of this. They don't live with her and don't hear her cry every night because of the torment. She refuses to take gym because she will not undress in front of a bunch of Barbie dolls. My daughter is angry and so am I that such things go on in life and that people are so cruel. Including the teachers. We have moved to a different area so she can get away from the abuse she took for 9yrs. My daughters childhood memories that are suppose to be so wonderful are nothing but a living nightmare.
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From: Lori O.
This is my story...
It didn't matter what I wore, or how I styled my hair. You still mocked me. You spit on me and called me names, and laughed with your friends.
When I was 12, your name was Cory. You pretended to ask me out and be my "steady". But it was all a cruel joke, one that lasted for months. But I didn't laugh.
When I was 13, your name was Alan. You got others to call me "Jabba the Hut", and made fun of how I crossed my legs. It lasted a year until you moved away.
When I was 14, your name was Martha. You and my best friend from kindergarten decided that you were going to try out for cheerleading. And I didn't "fit" your image. So you dumped me.
When I was 15, your name was Barbie. You called all of the bakeries in town and ordered sheet cakes with pigs on them. They all said "Happy Birthday, Piggy!" You stopped when my dad called the police.
When I was 16, your teasing and taunting finally got to me. I replayed my mom's words over and over as I tried to slit my wrists. She said, "Consider the source...."
Now I am 30. I am still fat. I am BEAUTIFUL. I have accepted myself. I thank God for making me who I am, what I am and giving me another chance. I have a terrific husband, a beautiful daughter and wonderful friends. I enjoy my life. And although I may remember the names of those who have hurt me so much in the past, that is all that I remember about those individuals. Anyone who really got to know me in those years remember a fun person, one who was caring and compassionate, one who loved to sing. Those that looked beyond my weight when I was younger gave me the courage to become who I am today. And when I think back to Cory and Alan, Barbie and Martha, I think of how insecure and threatened they must have felt by me. Why else would they feel the need to cut me down, only to make themselves feel better? Build their own selves up by tearing away at me? Fifteen years later it seems so ridiculous, I have to stop and laugh. The laughter has replaced the many tears that I shed during my school days and I think of how what seemed so crushing at the time is truly irrelevant in the grand scheme of life. I am the same person at 30 that I was at 13. I've just learned to love myself for who I am and not what I look like.
And anytime I'm faced with a tough situation, Mom still gives me the same advice. Consider the source....
Words to live by.
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From: Mom
This is my story...
My son gets teased not because he is fat, but because he is skinny. He gets called Skinny Bones Jones (not even our last name).
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From: Corbin
This is my story...
I was fat. It is just so easy to say that now. But when I was younger, the word fat was taboo. My friends were afraid to even utter it in my presence for fear of hurting my feelings.
And those who weren't my friends were not so nice about it. Oil-tanker, giant-sea-floating-organism and enormous-million-pounded-tub-of-lard were some of the more "creative" nicknames that I've heard over the years.
I can never forget the sneers on their faces when they say it to my face, and laughing like they've cracked the funniest joke on earth.
And like most of the human population out there, I took solace in food. And of course, that makes matters worse.
That went for a long, long time. Years to be exact. My family members were constantly nagging at me to do something about my weight. And I always felt inferior to my friends because of my figure and size.
I tried to lose weight, but I did not have the determination and the discipline. Being fat was my obstacle, and I simply could not overcome it.
I tried living with it, but it was not easy, living in a world where most people are superficial and obsessed with the idea of beauty. And being fat is simply NOT beautiful.
And finally, everything reached the point when I just can't take it anymore. And I started acting like a snob to everyone. It was my only form security, but I also became less and less popular. Life seems bleak and miserable for the poor fat girl back then.
Until someone, who can't bear to see me spend the rest of my life being miserable, stepped in to help me change my life. And that person is my mother. She dragged me to a doctor, and insisted she do something about me, her fat daughter. It was all pretty funny, my mum and the speechless doctor, both looking at me, trying to think of someway to jab me from the fat, ugly pig into a fairy-tale princess.
That did not happen though. I went for several appointments, had talks on weight-control, and the importance of exercise. I also dutifully ate the pills that the doctor prescribed to help me control my appetite.
And after the first month, I started to lose weight. I started to do light exercises as prescribed by the doctor. And from then on, things started to improve.
People that used to walk past me in the corridors, comment on my lost. Friends who were always there for me, were there to give me thumbs-up.
And suddenly, I found myself to have a lot of friends. Even those people who used to look at me like I'm an alien. They would comment that I look better now. I know that it was just a roundabout way of saying, now that you're looking more like a human than a pig, you can join our activities, because you won't embarrass us anymore.
The events later on were rather blurry. I kept up with my diet, obsessed with it, and I would have kept on with it until I die of anorexia or bulimia, until one day, I stopped and looked at myself. I realized that no matter what I do, people will always find something to talk about. I decided to drop my diet, and concentrate on living the life, that my mother and my doctor help me achieve.
Now, even though I'm not the slim or perfect figured types, I'm healthy, and I have fun being myself. I'm quite happy with the way my life is going. So what if I have a big rear end, and sometimes, people still comment that I'm still not slim enough. I would always tell them that, no matter how much I try, I can't please anyone. I've achieved my standards, and I'm contented.
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From: Sarah
This is my story...
I am in 6th grade and almost all the girls in my class like myself are chubby! The only girls who aren't are mean! nobody ever gets picked on except for this girl, named Brianna. I feel sorry for her. She is very tall too! I just want to say that anyone who has ever picked on a chubby kid is horrible! I know this girl who used to be chubby and she stopped eating and had to go to a hospital. I donno where she is now! I have lost weight but I remember crying because I got picked on once in second grade and that was the only time I was ever picked on.
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From: "Darryl"
This is my story...
This is my fat kid story. I moved to Michigan when I turned 8. I just lost my parent and had to move in with my grandparents. That's when I began gaining weight..
By 9th grade...I was 270 pounds. First day of high school, I was ridiculed...I came from a public school into a private catholic school and didn't know a soul. I always used humor as my means of being okay with myself and letting everyone realize I had something to offer.
Well, first day of 9th grade came. Some guy suggested I become bulimic...I said, "I would, but I'm afraid I'd eat my arm!" They didn't laugh..they all moved to a different table, leaving me to eat by myself..
I did make one friend...His name was Jon...He knew I had a crush on this girl in the Theater department. He suggested I ask her to Homecoming..After some coaxing...I finally went through with it...She said no..
That night, I had Jon over...I began to weep. He told me to cut it out and that he thought I was gay... He said he wouldn't be friends with a gay person, let alone a fat one...He walked out and we never spoke again..
Word got out that my parents had died...People stopped making fun of me and just ignored me...I was nothing...
The summer before my Junior year, I got Leukemia. By December, I was ready to go back to school...I was invited to look around the school and to re-familiarize myself with the school...
The counselor asked if I wanted to see the banner for our Boy's Soccer Team State Championship. I walked into the gym and...
An overwhelming amount of applause hit me...People were on their feet cheering for me, that I made it through okay...Even Jon...
People can be cruel, but remember, they're just people.
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From: Megan
This is my story...
Well my name is Megan and I am 11 years old. I am 5"0 and weigh 120 pounds. I hate the way I look and I starve myself, exercise continuously. but after that I eat eat and eat. my sister and her friends only make it worse making me drown my sorrows in food. I think my sister should grow up cuz she is 18!and also is over weight but lost almost 100 pounds so I can't say anything back when she calls me chunky butt. I am very popular at school but still everyone I know except my really good friends talk about how fat I am behind my back and my one friend Jessica who never ever talks bad about me in some way kinda makes it worse. because she is 11 also and in grade 7 also and used to weigh 52 pounds and now weighs 74 pounds but still looks great. I hate all beauty magazines because of the beautiful skinny models but I still can't help but read them. People tell me I'll get taller and the fat will go away but I know it won't. it'll never go away. I feel horrible about myself.
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From: Lindsay
This is my story...
When I was around 9-12 years old I was so not happy with my life. I weighed more than most kids. I was very tall I know that I was around 5'4-5'8. The tallness didn't hide my weight so much. It was hard for me to make friends because my self esteem went so low. I made friends and they were embarrassed by my looks so they left me in the dust. I hated buying school clothing so badly. I was made fun of so badly I even had to lie a lot so people would not find out. When people asked how much I weighed I said that I didn't have a scale (which is not true). It hurt me even more when my brother called me names and told kids at my school to call me them. He always used the name Biggie. Biggie was a rapper that was very overweight that died of heart failure. I felt that I would never get a boyfriend never make friends that were girls, and never be able to wear those cool outfits that are only made in the real skinny sizes. But I tried to not let that stop me, I bought so cool clothing that some kids at my school just didn't understand why a "Fat Kid" was wearing that kind of clothing. So I went back to my dull baggy clothing. I tried dieting- didn't do much for me. Not eating- Hurt me. Exercising- made me feel worse. And as a girl it is even more harder to be fat because you know how girls are suppose to look like in all. I just hated myself and my life! I felt like just killing myself at times. Now as a teen I still look the same but have regained some of my self esteem. I have some new friends that are boys but they are my buddies. now I just need friends that are girls to talk about things that they can relate to. I now wear what I want as long as it fits. And when people call me fat I am still sad but I tell them that I like the way I look. And that my friend is true!
-Lindsay
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From: max coconato
This is my story...
I am 28 years old and have forgotten all my child memories except being a fat child getting made fun of in school. It was almost like torture going threw school days when all the kids made fun of me and called me names like "fatzilla" and "chunkorilius". every day I got home and cried. I felt ashamed to eat snacks and didn't want to anymore. I have not forgotten about my child hood memories and will never forget them.
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From: Still Learning
This is my story...
The hardest lesson of school for me was finding out that I wasn't like the other kids. I was usually one of the first picked for things like football, but I was last pick at the dances. At 15 I weighed 180 pounds at 5´ 6". The most hurtful thing that happened to me was when a girl I secretly had a crush on asked me to the dance and didn't show up. All the popular kids were snickering at me as they showed up in pretty, thin pairs so I knew they were all in on it. Every time I see a blonde girl I can't help remembering that afternoon. That school was hell, but now I'm in college and I have a great relationship with a sweet, intelligent who cares about all of me.
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From: Geena
This is my story...
I'm about five feet and 115 pounds. If I told you I felt fat you'd probably tell me to shut up and go cry a river. But I do.
I became anorexic in seventh grade, bulimic in eighth. Bulimia has followed me all the way to college. I have dreams about my esophagus rupturing. I live in fear of dying of a heart attack.
All I can say is this probably never would have started if I hadn't been told that, at about 88 pounds, I could "stand to lose some weight." My mother, petite and probably somewhat anorexic herself, drove into my mind that not rail-thin=fat and fat=lazy and lazy=failure. I don't know what to do some days. I wish I could eat normally, not forever starving or binging. Word of advice: Parents, let your children grow into their bodies. As long as they eat healthily, normally, let them a lone. At puberty, most girls could "stand to lose a few pounds"....but that wouldn't be healthy. Tomorrow I start Slim Fast, maybe that will work... it makes me sad to think about all the time I have wasted with this awful eating disorder. No one should have to go through this, and often it seems I am the only one that does.
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From: Cassy
This is my story...
I am an overweight kid right now. I'm 13 and female. I try my best to fit in but it doesn't work. I'm called names like fat chick and moocow. I just want to be cool. if I could change anything about me it would be my weight because I believe if I was slimmer I would be beautiful. I hate my looks. its upsetting. but I'm losing weight and hopefully I might get what I want
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From: Franny
This is my story...
It was my 8th grade year. I was 160 lbs , and 5'5". I used to dread going to school in fear of what may come my way as far as fat jokes or harassment from the others. It was in 9th grade I started to throw up whatever I ate. I couldn't handle it, I'd wake up and yell at myself. Telling myself I had no control, if I had control I would not eat. So I did this for the next year. 10th grade; I hated myself, tried to commit suicide 4 times, and I hated throwing up. So in response I just stopped eating. I got down to 115 lbs, within a matter of months. People started to notice me, said I looked better. So I kept it up, it got to the point where I could hardly lift myself out of bed I was so weak. I just hated myself, I hated myself for being fat, I hated myself for not being strong, I just hated being me. It got better as time went on, but I will never forget what all those kids said to me and how I ruined my health to fit into there perfect Barbie world. I am now only a senior, I still have my moment when someone will have a bright idea to call me fat and I won't eat for a week. but I always come to and see its not right. I wish I could just once and for all get over it, but the truth is I never will.
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From: Cyndiana
This is my story...
Ah, childhood...
God must love or hate me, I'm not sure which, because most of the painful memories from my school life have been locked away in the dark recesses of my troubled mind, but I still have plenty.
I remember my earliest being in Kindergarten. I was playing on this wooden playground my school has. Out of nowhere a gang of my fellow classmates attacked me. I was shoved onto some wooden stairs, kicked, stomped on, hit, pinched, spit on, stepped on, my hair was pulled, all while the recess monitor, the other Kindergarten classes' teacher, watched, and did nothing. I still bear a scar where my hand was stomped on and my knuckle split.
I was also deathly afraid of heights (buying into the "the bigger they are, the harder they fall" theory), and I was swinging alone, only going medium-high, and quite enjoying myself. This girl came along and offered to push me in the swing. I was so hungry for companionship, I let her. Soon I began to get higher than I was comfortable with. In a panic I jumped as the swing met even with the top bar, about 10 feet off the ground. It was absolutely a miracle that I came out of it with not even a broken bone.
Then, in I believe 2nd grade, a student put a fire ant on me that decided to bite on the soft part of my under arm (not arm pit, the under side of my upper arm) and I spent the day in agony. My arm felt like it was on fire (thus the name "fire ant") and I had to keep going to the nurse for ice ( a bag an hour for a total of 6 bags that whole day) to make the pain bearable, to which she asked "Do you really need all this ice?" to which now I would have replied, "Do you need my foot up your ass?"
These are the only blatant memories of physical violence I have, though I <b><u>KNOW</b></u> there are more. The worst torture I suffered was emotional.
There was a 3rd grade teacher that hated me for my size, and was not secretive about it. I had "cry baby syndrome" due to the loss of my beloved brother (who I'll discuss later on in this rant). She used this as a way to punish me for my weight. When I'd start to cry, she'd tell me to go into this room (it was more like a passage way between two sets of double doors. It couldn't have measured more than 4'w X 4'l X 6.5'h) and cry at the wall. I thought she did this because I was uncontrollable, but I'd then notice that she'd only have me do this, that any other students were not only allowed to cry, but she comforted them.
These events occurred in the first 4 years of my schooling. AND this is only what happened to me. My brother, who was also fat, went through tortures I'd never have survived.
My brother, Shawn, was by far a genius. He was doing college level algebra by age 13/14. He was even teaching his own TEACHERS algebra. Harvard, Stanford, and Yale had all pretty much promised him a seat in their classrooms after graduation by the time he was in 8th grade. He was the brightest star my school had ever known, and ever WOULD know, but they still treated him inhumanly.
There was a teacher there, who's name I will not mention here to save his piddly reputation. He was a terrible man. He'd have boys over to his house and show them dirty movies, give them dirty magazines, and he'd try to look up the little girl's skirts (even having a fit with my parents for making me wear shorts under all my skirts and dresses). This horrible man was revered and respected at my school. It was this man who tortured my brother the most. During a P.E. class, for no real reason I can think of, this teacher starts to discuss men's penis sizes, stating that "black men have big ones, white men have small ones, and fat guys don't have any at all" then turned to point at my brother. How he could hold his head up after that, I'll never know.
My brother would be teased and humiliated by students, that would then turn around and beg his help in school work. Then, at age 14, he died suddenly one night of a rare form of meningitis. Those very same students appeared at his funeral acting as if they were all Shawn's best friends, and to add insult to injury, THAT teacher spoke at his funeral. I'm thankful that I was spared the knowledge of what this teacher did to him, because even at 6 years old, I fear I'd have slit his throat as he spoke.
God is good sometimes, because not long after my brother died, that bastard had a heart attack and died on the school bleachers.
The point of all this inane ranting is that these tortures would have been avoided if only a teacher had spoken up, and instead of the ol' cop-out standby, "If you don't get upset when they make fun of you, they will stop", they had said, "You don't deserve to be treated this way, I'll put a stop to it." It would have made my life, and my brother's lives a lot richer, happier, and fuller.
I make this plea to any parents of fat children: Please, I BEG you, if your child is being teased or physically assaulted for their weight, DO NOT accept this as "all part of growing up". Take your ass down to their school, and raise hell! A black kid cannot be teased, any other minorities cannot be teased, demand that your child not be allowed to be teased, either.
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From: overweight teen
This is my story...
I am to a fat kid I am 13yrs old and I weigh over 350lbs. but I tell other kids that I weigh less then 300lbs.sometimes I hate going to school because I know that the other kids will tease me and call me names like fatso,tub of lard, orca, fat pig, etc, etc. I really hate gym because some days we will play basketball and the teams will divided into shirt or skins and the other kids will pick me on the skin side just so they can pick on me. and they know that I hate to take off my shirt to show mine body. if I don't take off mine shirt the teacher will flunk me and if I do take off mine shirt the other kids will just laugh at me. and sometimes the other kids will walk up walk up to me and will squeeze mine big belly and then they will run away because they know that I cannot catch them. sometimes mine best friend who is real skinny he weighs around 75lbs will help me and sometimes he will tease me like the other kids. no matter how hard I try to lose weight I just can't do it. especially when people start to call me names about mine weight I just go home and eat all day. also I have to sit at a table because the desk are to small for me to sit in, so that gives the other kids to tease me about.
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From: Katie
This is my story...
This is my story. I am a 15 year old and still am in school. I am a fat obese girl. It is the hardest thing anyone must go through. Well I have a story that sticks out in my mind. Well, actually it just happened yesterday. I walked into Chemistry class after lunch (which for me, consisted of a left-over doughnut form breakfast.) A guy named Justin walked in and told no one in particular that Kristen had a boyfriend. Now, Kristen is this girl in our school who memorizes the yearbook and phone book. She knows everyone's name and phone number and address, scary stuff. Plus, she's really annoying. Always asking stupid questions (remember what teachers say "there's no stupid questions"-well, after having Kristin in their class, they never repeat that again) and telling us stuff we could care less about. She has the title of the most annoying girl in school. So when I was told that SHE, of all girls in our school has a boyfriend, I was crushed. I may be fat, but I'm not a bad looking girl. I get hit on by tons of older guys, but I've never actually had a boyfriend. I am at a lost for words now. I hate being fat. Why can't I be thin and wear Express jeans and tight baby t-shirts?
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From: Princess
This is my story...
My story is like the many others written here. My mother had put me on every diet known to man, to no avail. My grandmother used to pat my protruding belly and say, with pity in her voice "I wish you could loose that tummy." I outwardly shrugged off the comments from friends and family. Their comments really hurt though. At night I used to cry and pray "Please help me to have the will power to loose this weight." Nothing ever worked. Those who have not lived their entire lives being overweight could never understand what it is like. I have had my stomach stapled and have lost all 130 of those extra pounds that I carried around. I have gained much self confidence but not all of it. I carry around with me the extra skin that used to be filled with fat. I don't look good in shorts and you still would not catch me at the pool. But I can pass as a "normal" person. I am married to a wonderful man who calls me his princess and tells me that I am perfect the way I am. I still feel like a fat person, and always will. I have two beautiful children now. My 11 year old son is 50 pounds overweight, and my 7 year old daughter has just lately developed a little tummy. I feel helpless to help them. I never learned how to help myself, so how can I help them. I know my son gets teased. He doesn't ever want to talk about it. We are trying weight watchers right now. He has lost 15 pounds and seems very motivated. I too lost a few pounds on the many diets I tried as a child. The lost pounds always found me though, and brought more with them. Now at night when I cry and pray for help, its for my children. I would gladly take all the weight back to spare them the horror of growing up as a fat kid. It is a horror. "Normal" children and adults have no tolerance for fat. It's sad really. Fat people are the most loving and giving people. We have to be. Otherwise we would die of loneliness
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From: princess
This is my story...
I have blocked out most of my childhood. What does come back now and then usually makes me cry. I have two children, a 5th grader and a 2nd grader. I have home schooled them their entire lives. I never wanted them to go through what I did. I have had to go back to work now and next year I will have to put them in school. I am having nightmares about it and cry constantly. I am trying to be positive for their sake. I hope that they will make friends. I hope that they don't get teased. I hope I hope. But I know they will. I love them so much. I wish I could protect them from the pain that society inflicts on overweight people. There are so many of us you would think it would be more accepted. We are not the minority we are the common. Fat is not ugly it's just different.
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From: becca
This is my story...
Hey, my name is becca, and I'm only 11 but I have quite a story. When I was 11 years old I got a stomach thing called esophogitus. at that time I was over weight by about 30 pounds. I was happy go lucky and I really never thought about my weight until I got esopgogitus. I was scared to eat when I'm got it because it hurt so badly. I lost 40 pounds in 2 months. So as of now, I am a very average kid. but all the time I think about it and how I ever lived with being fat, but its not a bad thing and don't let people get you down about being a size bigger then them.
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From: skinny kid
This is my story...
I'm 11 years old and weigh 125 its a horrible felling but
all the other girls at school wear nice clothing and my mom spends the whole day looking for one outfit so I'm trying to stop eating because I told myself I will be fit by summer and I'm getting there right now.
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From: Silver
This is my story...
I've been a big girl as long as I could remember- I didn't even like junk food when I was growing up, I guess it's just my genetic makeup and love of sitting quietly with a good book. Everything was alright though, till the third grade. That's when I went to a private school...the kids there were supposed to be really nice, but unfortunately they all happened to be really skinny and came from houses where carob was considered an adequate substitute for chocolate (it's not). Because of this, I stuck out even more and so got teased. I remember my mother telling my best friend (at the time) a story about how when I was two, she told me I could be anything I wanted to be and I said I wanted to be a fire truck. Well, you can just imagine what happened. She told everyone, and I was told by my classmates that I would indeed be a fire truck if I didn't lose weight. I also remember one of the boys at my school telling me that I was going to break the floor; he did not listen to me when I pointed out that if our teacher (a 6 ft. adult male) wasn't in danger of breaking the floor, neither was I. That school only went up to 6th grade though, and I'd hoped that 7th grade would be better. It wasn't- at least in my private school, no one threatened my life. The kids in public school said things like "this necklace is worth more than you are" and "you know I'm gonna kill you, right?" Well, the teachers in my public school were more sympathetic, and tried to protect me- but I didn't want to be protected. I wanted to fight back. I made a commitment to myself never to go on a diet; I've managed to stick with that to this day. I also became involved with various subcultures; being a "freak" helped me to find friends who would accept me for who I am AND had the added bonus of scaring away attackers. Thinking back on all of this now, I want to strangle whoever first said that ridiculous statement, sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never harm me. Words do hurt, a lot. Now that I am a senior in college, no one really pays attention to my weight (though I am firmly in the BBW body range) which is just as well, since I don't pay attention to it either. I refuse to weigh myself or let the doctor tell me what the scale says- it will just make me needlessly self-conscious. I still am a "freak", and proud. I don't see why society has the right to tell us how to look, dress, or be. Ultimately I hope to change society, so my kids won't go through the hell that I went through. But I refuse to be anyone but myself now, no matter what anyone thinks. Anyways, thanks for listening, and remember, believe in yourself!
-Silver
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From: mia
This is my story...
When I was younger I was teased for being fat, once I left grade school, I became anorexic, for two years now I have been. While this has helped me lose a lot of weight, I will always be stuck with the side effects. Please don't do this to yourself.
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From: fiona
This is my story...
I'm 17 and from Scotland. most of the stories on this site are from America and are a hell of a lot different from mine. For the first four years of high school I wasn't just called "fatty" or anything like that I was subject to assholes in the street screaming abuse at me, usually things like "fat bitch", "fat cunt" etc. Not only this, but if I turned 'round to say anything or even just look to see who it was that was yelling at me or throwing things at me (I've had broken glass thrown at me) then one of these annoying little cretins would pick a fight with me, usually starting with "what the fuck are you lookin' at u fat cow". If I told any of my teachers about this they would either not believe me or say they'd deal with it but they never seemed to do anything about it. The most they'd do is speak 2 the pupil and then I'd end up in another fight with the pupil a week later for being a "grass". Now that I'm in my last year at school people are a lot better, the only problem is that I have built up this defense mechanism (I cannot spell. lol.) so that whenever someone gets close or tries to help me with something I won't let them. I'm am still overweight and I still have huge problems because of it. The only time I don't seem to care is when I try to forget about it, and now if someone calls me fat I tend to lose my temper and threaten them. There was this time about 1 year ago I had an argument with my friend and she told me that I was going to die because I was so fat, I totally lost control and smashed her head off a tiled wall. She was fine (a bit shaken but fine) but I wasn't, she forgave me but I've never forgiven myself or the people that drove me to act like that. Nothing like that has happened recently and hopefully it won't happen again.
to sum up my school sucks big time at dealing with problems and never seemed to care less. Was you're school any better?
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From: Momo
This is my story...
I was thin until I hit puberty. I grew up on a farm, I did a lot of work and play outdoors, but I ate too much fattening food. When I hit puberty the weight just piled on! I didn't realize I was overweight until I was 14. I was home-schooled until my freshman year of high school...and let me tell you, high school can be cruel when you've never set foot in a public school. I realize now that I wasn't that big--only a size 14! But people made me feel a lot fatter than I actually was. Gym was the worst! There were two guys in my class who always made fun of me and my "big a$$." There was a guy in my Spanish class who pretended to ask me out as a joke. the girls were never mean outright...just really patronizing. I starved and even made myself throw up until I lost about twenty pounds. I was sick, I looked awful. I dated a guy who broke my heart...the weight came back and then some. It wasn't until college that I managed to get a grip on myself and be healthy (keep the weight off WITHOUT hurting myself). I still feel ugly and ashamed of myself sometimes.
That is my story.
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From: Fat-Freedom Fighter
This is my story...
I am 16. I am 240 lbs. I have a 38 inch waist. I have a disease: being fat. I have been fat for most of my life, since I was 8 or so. by 6th grade it was very clear to me that being fat wasn't acceptable. it was at this time I turned to music. music is the only thing in my life that will never double cross me. I listen to "bad music" such as Korn, limp bizkit, adema and other bands that do nothing negative at all, but vent anger out through music. I am constantly having names and any other things thrown at me. I am always picked last to play sports in gym and I don't even play sports anywhere else anymore, not even at home. I used to play baseball and football but I couldn't' take the harassment from peers and coaches anymore. I am especially sick of this one asshole named Brandon. he was my friend until he got skinny. now the only thing that escapes his mouth towards me is, "hey, look at Adam's tits. they are bigger than Britney spears'." the one thing that hurts the worst is all the guys and their girlfriends and how happy they are. I have never even come close to having a girlfriend. all I hear about from other guys is how they got lucky. I can count on one hand how many people at my school haven't had something even close to sex. I sit in my room virtually every night as tears of anguish roll down my cheeks thinking that no girl will ever remotely enjoy me. my hormones are so strong and I am so desperate that I just finished my probation sentence I received for being caught looking in places I shouldn't. there isn't a school day that goes by that I don't hear a comment like, "what's wrong? no one wants your fat ugly body, so you have to secretly watch them." I also have a mild case of epilepsy (when you have seizures) from worrying too much and being put under tremendous stress. I feel a little closer to the edge of suicide every day. I can only hope I make to my adulthood. each minute is a struggle through life for a fat person. my greatest wish is to rid the world of ALL fat-discrimination. I must fight the freedom to destroy the 'hate the fat' mind frame of the next generation.
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From: anonymous
This is my story...
When I was little, everyone said two boys loved me! I was thrilled! The bad part was that I was in the 5th grade and weighed 178. I didn't eat meat and I did sit ups etc. one day one of the boys came back from sea world and gave me a b.day gift, I just want to say to the little people out there, fat helps you develop! People still may like you, and that is a fact! Never give up hope!!!
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From: C.L.M.
This is my story...
I was always a fat kid. I remember all the way back to preschool being different looking and not being able to run and play as hard as the other kids. My family lived way out in the country where there was no other kids to play with. As a result, I was very stationary, ate lots of snacks, and watched TV. Starting with 3rd and 4th grades I started to get heavier. I got Ms. Piggy, fat slob, moo cow, stinky sow, etc. As a result, I withdrew and developed extreme social anxiety. As I went into jr. high in 1988 puberty was not kind to me. I wore sweat pants and huge t-shirts to school. I went home crying on an almost daily basis. My parents couldn't afford private school, and were at a loss of what to do about my weight. As I went into high school, I turned to drugs. The 'head' crowd was much kinder and accepting of my appearance. I slimmed down a bit but was still a size 16, which in high school was like being an elephant. However, the massive drug use impaired my judgment, and as a result I was raped by five of my 'friends' during a drug filled afternoon. I tried to put this behind me and go on as if nothing happened. I cleaned up my appearance and sought new friends. Funny, now that I had lost some weight (size 12) and cleaned up, the popular kids were so much nicer to me. I developed a couple of close relationships with guys in that crowd, but they didn't work out. I always thought. it is because they are embarrassed to be seen with me ..the fat girl. Those years of being tormented about my weight and appearance still are in my mind. I think every time a relationship doesn't work, or I don't get asked out, or called again...it is my weight (even though I am now a size 8). This kind of social and verbal abuse can ruin one's entire self -image and hopes of healthy relationships. Parents-- if your young child has a weight problem, seek help. Play with them actively and keep minimal junk food in the house. Above all, if they are in a continually upsetting school situation REMOVE THEM! PROTECT THEM. IT IS YOUR JOB AS A PARENT.
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From: lard but
This is my story...
When I was growing up between kindergarten and 8th grade I was always picked on because I was extremely obese. I had a low self esteem about my self and I was a loner. At lunch was the perfect opportunity for kids to pick on me. They use to throw their leftover food at me and tell me to eat it fat boy otherwise they would beat me up after school. I was terrified so I was eating lots of food 4 or 5 times more than other kids. I did not tell mom or dad and they had me on strict diets at home and wondering why it would not work. I felt sick and malaise and puked a lot. Then when I got to 7th and 8th grade I became depressed and stood 5 feet 5 inches and weighed 255 lbs. I was very depressed and the kids still would not leave me alone. They would get cute and say don't wear an x on your shirt because a helicopter might land on it. Or they would say don't go swim in the Atlantic ocean because they might think there's and oil spill (I'm black). By the time I reached 10th grade I was fed up with it. I joined football team as a non starter just to burn calories. It was working. I hit the gym 5 days a week right there in the school gym. I did this all the way through my senior year. I was in a lot better shape but still 20 lbs over weight. I said the heck with this I'm going for muscularity now. I joined the marine corps at 18 and the recruiter got me to only 5 lbs overweight the rest I lost in boot camp. At 20 years old I was getting into bodybuilding and getting very big, not fat. Now at age 22 years old I enter local bodybuilding contests and hope to be an international contender in a couple years. I go to local night clubs and I cant seem to go in without the girls looking at me and jumping all over me.
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From: Johnna
This is my story...
I remember when I was born I was always the fat chubby little girl with her cousins. I remember The at the age of 6 i was all ready the size 10 yearold boy, but alot heavier. Most of my family are large, so I dont know if i eat to much or am naturally that way. I remember when I went to school grades 1-7 we had to run a mile it always took me at least 30 min, while it took the others 10 at most, I remember all the boys laughing and say "i wonder if the pig will go any faster", or the girls would say " she is soooo ugly, im glad im not her." Then after we were finshed with the mile they would always make me get weighed while the kids watched. But now im in high school, im 14, and I will be entering my sophmore year as soon as school starts but I do still get picked on. But to tell you the truth I hardly pay attenion, and I have noticed, hey im big, but you know something I may fat, but your skinny and are an ass, so get a life. I mean Im in a school where 18 and 19 year olds pick on me.. But I feel someone will get them back for what they have done to me and to others....
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I think I was in Grade 3 when I really started noticing a change in my body and the way the kids at school treated me. Up until I was seven, I was of average weight and didn't look any different from my peers. I think my pure addiction to sweets was what did me in and the fact that I was a latchkey kid didn't help either. Basically, I would eat whatever was in the fridge until my parents came home from work.
I hated recess time, because the kids would run around and call me "Army Tank" and "Fatty, Fatty two by Four". I would pretend that it didn't hurt, but it did. I had only a couple of friends. It wasn't until grade 7 when I finally decided that enough was enough. I got into physical activity and ate more healthy foods. By the time I graduated highschool I had reached an average weight for my height and I was very happy. I know that I will never be able to just eat whatever I want, but I live with that. I now have two daughters of my own and don't want them to go through the same problems I had, so I encourage healthy snacks and physical activity.
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From: : l
This is my story...
I never really ever thought I was fat as I was growing up. I never even thought I was overweight. I just remember my mom saying that it was only baby fat and that it would go away. But I didn't. I guess it started around 5th grade. I remember I went with my grandmother clothes shopping. I was trying on some jeans and they didnt fit. My grandmother called the sales woman over, leaned over, and whispered loudly into her ear, "Could we find some jeans that would fit her. She's just too fat for these." I could feel my face turning red and I looked down and for the first time I thought I was fat. Over the next few years I tryed everything to lose weight. Only to please my mother, grandmother, and other family members who whispered, "what does her mother feed her?" at the annual family reunions. I finally gave up. I started eating all the time. I would eat my breakfast and then as soon as I ate that and everyone was out of the kitchen I would eat another packet of pop-tarts or another bowl of rice krispies-(with 4 spoonfuls of sugar, just like I liked it). My mom would buy those little debbie snacks and I would eat 2 or 3 at one sitting. I kept promising myself, "Once I reach 130 pounds I'll go on a diet." 130 pounds slowly changed to 140, then 150, then 175, then 200. I would go to my bedroom and looked at myself in the mirror. A solitary tear running a path down my puffy cheek. I went to a small, private school. (I should mention that by 7th grade most of the girls still hadn't reached 110 pounds, while I was pushing 175.) I was pretty well liked by all the other girls but I knew I would never go to parties with them or to the mall. (Not like I could ever shop at their stores anyways) But it was the guys that chose to torment me. I would just be walking and not bothering anybody and they would come up from behind me and push me down and then hold me down and say things like, "Whats the matter? Too fat to get up?" It wasnt really the physical abuse but the mental abuse that got to me. And you know how little seventh grade sex humor is- I would make perverted jokes along with all the guys, and that was the only times that they would hang around me. One day, this boy finally said, "Why do you talk about this sex stuff, Your so fat no one will ever fuck you." Those words hurt so bad. I knew then I had to do something before his words became reality. I knew that the danceline tryouts were in a month so I decided that could be my one chance to be popular. I went on a starvation diet, eating between 5 or 10 grapes only each day. The more weight I lost the more compliments I got. I finally got down to around 125. This was near normal enough for all the kids but I ended up switching schools for the next year so all my efforts were for nothing. That summer I gained back all the weight plus some. My mom began to hassle me about it like never before. Finally one day she just screamed, "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE SKINNY AND POPULAR LIKE I WAS WHEN I WAS IN SCHOOL?! NO ONE WILL EVER WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND!" I never forgave her for it either. That year in school I made friends with a girl who was even more overweight with me so that helped to have a friend who knew how it felt. I finally decided to love my body for what it was. And it seemed that I got more friends after that, (and a boyfriend). My "fat friend" became so jealous of me. She began to fight with me all the time and talk trash about me behind my back. I finally confronted her and she began to cry and say that no one would ever love her. I tried comforting her. I tried to convince her that if a man that really and truly loved her would see past all her faults and just see a beautiful person. I guess I was convincing myself of that as well. And now that I'm older a truly believe it. I'm a size 12 or 14 and I'm completely happy about it!
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From: Jeanette
This is my story...
When I was young, I was shy, smart, and fat. Three strikes, and I was out of the social circles. It didn't help that I had skipped two grades - I was as different as different could be. Even though I looked the age of other kids (I've always been very tall), acted the age of other kids, and did all I could to fit in, I never did.
One year, it all changed. What most fat kids don't notice is that there are other fat kids, too. They're just as desperate for companionship and love. I became part of an outside social circle and learned how to socialize with people. It was in some ways a crutch - a way to learn to deal with anyone, by starting with those who were most similar.
The result was that we all ended up with self confidence - something we'd never had before. When that happened, strange things happened. We were accepted into other cliques. We started getting dates (!). We had - by the end of high school - the normal high school experience. We were accepted by all but a few jerks who would find something to insult in anyone.
Today, I'm a successful writer, have lost over 50 pounds, and am continuing to lose weight . Those outcast fat friends of mine became army reservists, fashion designers, and a whole host of other professions.
The reason fat kids often become unsuccessful adults isn't their weight, or even other kids' reaction to it. It's that they never learn to put themselves forward in social situations. I know for a fact that I am not viewed as a "fat girl" by anyone I know even tangentially - in spite of my size 20 body. I don't walk with my head down and I am not ashamed of my weight (though I would still prefer to have less of it!).
The trick is confidence. Without confidence, no one is attractive to others. You have to sell yourself. I became so good at selling myself that now I'm in the advertising world.
If you're in school and are reading these stories, please don't be disheartened. There is so much you can do, so much you can experience if you KEEP YOUR HEAD HIGH. When people call you "fat," thank them. It may sound weird, but when you hold your head high and thank them, they'll be confused, and they'll stop. Insults that have lost their power are no longer used by bullies.
Being fat isn't a hindrance to dating, to love, to friendship, or to career if you know how to conduct and carry yourself - but for many fat people, being marginalized since school makes it so that they're petrified at the thought of putting themselves out there.
If you're in school, take these lessons to heart now. Also, feel free to use this liberally, it served me well in school:
"Yes, I'm fat. I can lose weight. But you'll always be stupid."
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From: big girl#1
This is my story...
The whole time i was growing up there was this kid mark, a hefty guy himself, who made fun of me and called me fat and just wouldnt let up. i went through life convinced i was totally fat and it carried over into my adulthood. i was going through my year book a few weeks ago and saw a photo of me then and was like, wait a minute, i wasnt even fat, but he was so vicious and so consistent in his bullying that he convinced me i was fat and through his language convinced me that because i was soooo fat that i wasnt worthy of dating or even being friends with. there is a special place in hell for that guy and anyone of his ilk.
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From: Jen
This is my story...
My ordeal began in kindergarden. I missed the cut off date for entry, which meant I was forced to start a year late. When I began, I was one, and in some cases two years older than the other kids...and I was FAT. Right from the beginning I was reminded just how different I was than the others, as they would pinch and poke at my belly and arms while calling me fatty and laughing up a storm. There was also this wonderful little gathering called "group weighing," where all the kids would line up to get weighed. Imagine the snickers as I walked up to the scale, which felt more like marching to my death by way of guillotine. Not even 2 hours later, a rumor had spread that I weighed 300 pounds. Things didn't get better as the years progressed, in fact, they got so bad I nearly died. The fifth grade proved to be one of the worst and most traumatic years of my life. My best friend, who was just as unpopular as I was, decided to try out for jr varsity cheerleading. She made it, and happier I could not have been, until of course, I lost her. Although she was a cheerleader she wasn't yet popular because, as the other kids would say, she was friends with "that fat girl." In the end, the pressure proved to be too much and, like so many young kids do, she chose popularity over everything else...including her best friend. Close to the end she actually became the worst of all, simply because she had something to prove. My new name, courtisy of my x best friend, was Moo Moo, which remained with me until I quit school. But we'll get to that part later. During the years that followed I was taunted mercilessly. Even in the winter months I walked home from school to avoid riding the bus with my bullies. One day, however, it was storming; we're talking hail and the whole nine yards. Knowing what awaited me on the bus, I was hesitant to ride but, seeing as how I couldn't walk home with hundreds of golf balls clunking me on the head, I took a deep breath and stepped up onto the bus. Right away a boy started yelling, "Hey! She doesn't belong on this bus! She doesn't live on this rout!" He knew full well I did. He was my next door neighbor. The driver was no help and, despite my lack of a hard hat, I walked home in the hail. Another of my friends was also plump, but not nearly as fat as i was. Her sister was popular, and going over to her house was even worse than school because, in school, there were limits as to what could be done to me. When there were no rules and no chance for reprimand, however, nothing was off limits. I was punched and kicked and mocked, told to sit at the table where, just a few minutes prior, we were all eating, and left there while the others joked around outside and made cracks about what a pig I was. I didn't want to sit there and eat, but they wouldn't let me go with them. Finally, I gave up on friendship all together, refused to eat or go to school, and locked myself in my room where i remained until, one day on the way to the bathroom, I fainted. In less than a year I dropped from 200 pounds to 124. Although that isn't considered a very low weight, it was obtained through starvation and, by the time I reached that point, my body was so malnourished that it just simply stopped functioning. It was at that point that I had an epiphany. Fat bad; skinny good. Just to show how much of an impact eating disorders have on the mind, when I was hospitilized I was more upset that i couldn't hold out another 20 pounds so that, to the doctors, i would be considered underweight, than I was at the fact that I almost died. So what now...? Well, a few years ago I went back to school for my associates in paralegal studies. I'm now 25, working as a paralegal and attending a local university, prelaw, in the evenings. Although I'm doing well in my work and my studies, I can't shake those old feelings of being inferior and, well, somehow less of a person...deserving of torment. No matter how well I do, it's never good enough. I can't shake the feeling that I'm not as smart, not as pretty, and certainly must be insane to even be contemplating law school. The weight I've gained back is quickly coming off and, so far, it hasn't had an impact on my work/school. It's coming, though, the weakness, fatigue, inability to focus...I'd like to say that I don't know why I'm doing this to myself, that if I knew why I'd some how fix it. Unfortunately, I know all to well my reasons for this self inflicted torture. I'm angry...at them, at myself... I need a way to take out that anger, to tell them how much they hurt me. Maybe destroying myself physically is the best way to do that. Funny though, I'll never see them again anyway...yet I can't stop. I need to be the thinnest, food free and pure. When I binge I purge, as if in ridding myself of the food I'm also releasing everything bad and dirty inside of me...and their words. I'm not going to say that it's all their fault. A lot of people get teased; they don't all turn out like this. However, it did play a role in making me how I am today. People tend to blame parents for behavioral problems in children, even adults. Here's the thing, though. Growing up we spend half our lives in school, surrounded by our peers. In actuality, they have a hand in raising us... That said, let this be a lesson to all. Think before you speak. The damage done may be irreparable.
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From: anonymous
This is my story...
Up until the age of 8 I was quite a skinny child but at age 8 developed asthma and had to go onto strong doses of Cortisone. This worked negatively with my diet and I started to bloat and at the age of 10 was taking a size 40 slacks. I remember being teased but had a happy dispostion and covered my sadness very well. I was always immediately overlooked for any type of sport as the teacher would take one look at me and decide that I would not be capable. I therefore retired to indoor activities like choir etc. My folks accepted me for who I was as they loved me unconditionally. Once reaching my teenager years I was desperate for a boyfriend as everyone else seemed to have one. By this stage however I had developed such bad self esteem and became very introverted with the opposite sex. Once reaching high school and entering an all girl environment, together with my mom I set on a decent eating programme and plummeted to a size 34 and to 58 kilo's. My life changed dramatically and my self esteem increased. I will never forget my child hood chubby days and treat every child no matter what size with total respect for their individuality as I am now a school teacher and will never underestimate or place chubby children in a separate category to others.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
For as long as I can remember, I've always been the fat, ugly one. My best friend, who I've known since I was a baby, was always the skinny, pretty one. She would get the guys, and all the friends. I always wanted to be her. I remember in 3rd grade, we were doing something in class and she came up to me, and i dont know if it was for real or just mockingly, said, "are you 77 lbs like me?" well, i wasnt 77 lbs, i was 130, in 3rd grade...in 4th and 5th grade my nickname was "big chops." i remember being called that by the little boys who thought they were so funny. in junior high it was worse. i wasnt really called any names, but people made me well aware that i was fat. the highest i got to was 210 at 5'5. no one made eye contact with me, no one opened doors for me, and people really werent all that nice. i was although on the basketball team. but i remember once my best friend and one of her friends said something along the lines of "isnt it weird how fat people's short ride up on the inside of their thighs?" in regards to me, and then started imitating it. how humiliating. i remember walking to school everyday scared shitless. riding in the van to school, my heart pounded once we turned onto that street. i hates setting foot there. when i stepped out of the car, who knew what would be said. would someone laugh, would something be wrong with me? in gym, i was always picked last, and if i wasnt, i was scared that i WOULD be picked last. in school, if someone laughed clear across the room, it was at me. i would immediately check myself for something that MIGHT be wrong. to this day this is true. i still feel that people are laughing at me, i still feel that no one likes me, i still feel obesely fat and ugly, even tho everyday i am told how beautiful i am. even though ive lost so much weight that ive had to go into the hospital. even tho people KNOW me for being "the diet queen" or "miss exercise-aholic", even tho ive been asked to model, and ive also been asked IF i do model. i get hit on daily by gross men who think their studs, and i have a boyfriend who i love so much and he loves me also. but none of this "good stuff" matters, because of the pain i was given years ago. u know the saying sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me? bullshit. id rather be beaten bloody and have all my ribs broken than to go through that torment again.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
It is very tough growing up as a fat child. In elementary school I had a lot of friends my own age, but waz teased by youngr and older kids. I am now 15 6'3 and 225 pounds. I have a lot of friends and dont get teased anymore. One thing is still very difficult, though. I am now a freshman and on my high schools basketball team and even though I am one of the strongest and best on the team, it is still hard to take off my shirt at practices. To all the kids out there, its not your looks but ur personality that makes u popular.
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From: jessie
This is my story...
I am 13yrs old and weigh 170lbs. i am in 7th grade. i remember a memory that happend in the middle of 6th gr. kids in my class ALWAYS made fun of me but that day i was sick and tired of it. see we had those long science tables that could seat 2 people at it. the kid in front of me was the worst. one day he said to me shut up titanic and so i got very angry and pushed the table into him and he fell on the ground and had a hard time getting up. i was spoken to the next day but all he said was " Now you didn't really want him to get hurt did you?" i lied and said no. from then on he never made fun of me again. MY ADVICE TO FAT KIDS WHO GET TEASED IS DONT LET PEOPLE GET TO YOU AND DO WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE THEM STOP AS LONG AS YOU DONT GET IN TROUBLE all in all i dont get made fun of by schoolmates but sometimes by these 2 girls i am taking care of them though if you know wat i mean! ;)
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From: Angela
This is my story...
At 23 years old all I remember about my childhood was the fact that I was the "fat girl"....
But now I look back at old pictures and I see that I was never fat at all. I, unfortunately, was forced to move to a wealthy neighborhood when I was in the sixth grade where all of the girls were perfect little sixty pound wisps (and were made that way by their anorexic country club mothers, I imagine) and the fact that I weighed over 100 pounds was enough for me to get so psychologically tortured that I thought about suicide and I thought about it often.
After an especially bad day I would come home and write in my journal, "If I don't weigh 75 pounds by May I'll kill myself." And I meant it. But thankfully, I never did it.
The worst instigator of my torture was a girl named Annie. Annie was this cute little blonde with a rich daddy who always had the latest clothes, and if you were friends with Annie you were IT. She and her friends decided that I was going to be their target and they made the next three years of my life hell. Even kids who wanted to be my friend at first would torture me because if you were seen being nice to me you were officially added to their list of people to torment too.
Man, if I could go back in time and relive that knowing what I know now...
But let me tell you, after what I saw a few months ago I am a true believer in karma.
As an adult, I'm not a "skinny" person but I'm a very fit 5'4", 145 pounds. I also have a great job, own my own home, have wonderful friends and a fantastic life. Not long ago I was driving through my old town where my middle school torture took place and I went into a gas station to fuel up and get a bottled water. I knew there was something familiar about the girl at the counter, but it didn't hit me until I looked down at her nametag. "ANNIE"
When I looked into her eyes, I knew this was the same Annie who had been such a "goddess" at school, and now she was an unkempt, probably 300 pounds plus woman who was missing a few teeth. I can't tell you how much I wanted to say something to see if she'd remember me, but I didn't and just walked away.
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From: Gina
This is my story...
I was in the third grade when I recall being tormented for being overweight. Its acually very sad, alot of my childhood is blocked out of my own memory, I'm left with little images of indiviual events. Your general name calling, getting mildly pushed around (if one of the other kids was willing to risk getting "fat cooties") I had one friend in the 4th grade, untill she asked me not to tell anyone she was my friend, some friend. Nobody ever stuck up for me. I remember dreading reses and spending it alone in some random corner where I hoped to be left alone. Once a week our class ran an obstacal course with was positivly humiliating. The teacher seemed to stand there with some sick enjoyment as I struggled. I never finished it, or came close, it was physicaly impossible for a child of my size. I was forced to try anyway dispite my pleading. I did alot of school switching, some places were better then others, but I never had any friends. Other then the one friend at home who I had grown up with. (we are still friends today)In Jr. High things got incredibly worse. P.E. was introduced and I was forced to change in the locker room, where food was throw at me, my things were stolen from my locker, one time some girls waited till I was back in my street clouthes and dragged me into the showers, I had to spend the rest of the day all wet, and hurting. Once out there things did not improve (duh.) P.E. was basicly, run laps... I was triped, had rocks thrown at me, had my bra snapped, hair pulled, you name it. At lunchtime, when I wasn't getting my ass kicked, I would pretend to be sleeping, hopeing to be left alone. The school counsler set me up with the "friends" with whom I was supposed to have lunch with, but they to, made fun of me. By this time my mom had gotten involed in trying to do somthing about it for natualy I was refusing to go to school every morning. (I have been since 3rd grade) Plus, I was failing all my classes. After many meetings, the school decided to do nothing. So I went into home school. Went I went to high school, things got alittle better. I made a good friend who I shared a few classes with by coinidence. She was about my size (about a 16) but much stronger then I was, tough. While was always simply getting beaten up, she acted as somewhat of a security to me, people stopped messing with me for the most part because we stuck together. By my junior year I had earned the respect of most of my classmates simply by not allowing myself to be a victim. I joined clubs and got involed with drama. I also was very suicidle... But I had friends to turn to and I worked through it. Sure, there were still times when some ignorant person would trip me in the hall or call me names, but now I know it's their loss. I still get depressed sometimes, I still feel ugly sometimes, and I still sometimes want to kill myself... But as long as I know I have people who love me regardless of my appearance, I know I'll work through it... I just started collage last spring, and I know its uphill from here.
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From: Angel
This is my story...
I am a 15 year old girl who has had to deal with a lot in my life so far. The thing that has hurt me the worst was the cruleness of my peers and people younger than me. They are crule because they get it from t.v. and other places. My story begins here. I wake up every morning to go to school. I get to the bus stop, and thats when the taunting begins. By the time I get on to the bus my spirts have been broken down. The bus ride is worst than the bus stop. Then when I arrive at school it gets even worse. People who don't even know me are calling me tubby, or fat. All I can think to myself is "why do they say these things to me they don't even know me?" I keep telling myself that I'm not, and that I am perfect. By the time I leave school I am telling myself that I am fat and I am not perfect.
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From: Teresa
This is my story...
Hello my name is Teresa I know the termoil that some of us went though as children. I am 28 years old and weigh 320 pounds when I was a small child I was a normal weight. I started gaining weight when I was around age 7 or 8. I alway had problems with other kids picking on me my sister would always have to interfere and tell other kids to leave me alone so I was never really able to stand up for myself. I was always afraid to get involved in the play days or the track and field day events due to being a big kind and always worrying is anyone watching me cause I didnt like getting made fun of. I was made fun of as a kid and I believe to this day that my weight as a child and my weight as an adult has held me back in this world out in the job force and in public as well. I still get remarks to this day from teenagers and children who call me fat or lard Ass things like that then it just makes me feel like crawling into a ball and wishing I were at home where I can be away from the remarks and the stares. Anyway just wanted to vent how I feel. I love to meet people and would love to meet more people but being the way I am its hard to meet people and be the popular person.
Anyway thanks again
Teresa :)
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From: Mackenzie
This is my story...
During my early childhood, I was a very skinny little girl. I remember my mother always having to force me to eat. The reason I never ate much was because I had other things on my mind, like riding my bicycle, playing with my doll, coloring, etc. However, as I got older, I started enjoying food more and more. I found myself having a big appetite and when it was time to eat, I was always holding my plate out, ready to be served. My mother is an excellent cook and she always made delicious food. She made dinner six days a week and on Friday's, we would all go out to eat. Friday's were the days I ate wing dings and french fries and pizza. But I never over ate. I had three meals a day and snacks in between, just like any normal person. I will admit, I loved junk food and lots of times, I would be chowing down on a chocolate bar, or cake, or ice cream, but I was just a little kid! Being young is about eating lots of junk food. I never had a problem with my weight or others teasing me until I entered the fifth grade. We all had to go to the nurse's office to get weighed. So, I sauntered into her office and stepped on the scale. And when I looked at the numbers that showed up, I nearly died. I was 10 years old and 98 pounds at a height of 4'11. This discovery triggered a thought inside of my mind... a thought that would torture me for years to come: I was fat! I went around to all of the other girls and asked them their weights. They all weighed atleast 15 pounds less than me. I compared myself to them and felt like they were much better than me. Up until that point, I was an ordinary child who loved life. However, I suddenly developed this deep hatred for myself. I spent the rest of the year going around and complaining about my weight. I would constantly say, "I'm so fat!" and the other kids would assure me that I wasn't, but I didn't believe them. I figured that they were just trying to be nice. Sixth grade was more of the same. I complained some more, compared myself to all the "thin" girls, and hated myself even more. By the time seventh grade rolled around, I had absolutely no self esteem. I stopped complaining about my weight. Instead, I just kept quiet about it. That was the year that I noticed how the other kids would point and laugh and whisper things about me. They would treat me badly and be very cruel to me. I was, in their eyes, a social outcast. I only had a few friends. I began hating school and everyone there. In January of 2000, things took a turn for the worse. I remember eating spaghetti one night with my family. A few hours later, I decided to have another bowl of it. My dad commented that I was being a "pig". I was very hurt by his ignorance and that is when a light flicked on in my head; I decided to do something about it. Quietly, I walked up the stairs and into the bathroom. I knelt down in front of the toilet and stuck my finger down my throat. I gagged, but nothing came up. So I did it again, except harder and faster. I gagged and felt something coming up. So, I rammed my finger down my throat and my spaghetti came back up and flew into the water. I continued to do this until I had thrown up all of the spaghetti. I started inducing vomiting on myself and it became a frequent habit. By the time March came around, I had officially become bulimic. I was ruining my body, but I didn't care. I became obsessed with throwing my food up so that I could be thin and look just like a supermodel. I never lost any weight, though. If anything, I gained. Nobody knew about my eating disorder until my sister caught me throwing up one day. She kept it a secret for a while, but ended up telling my mother. My parents discussed it and decided that they were going to have me put in the hospital. I got very scared and decided to stop making myself throw up. I managed to quit, but it was extremely difficult. When I started eigth grade, my life became a hell. All the kids teased me. I was sexually harassed by a boy who would pretend to like me just as a joke. Another boy would come up to me in the halls and say, "Move it, fatty!". My parents weren't exactly caring. My dad called me a blimp and once, when we went out to eat, I ordered some chicken. My dad said, "You had better watch what you eat because you'll get big." I rolled my eyes and said, "I don't care what you say! When I am older, I will be a famous actress and I will be on the front cover of TV Guide." My dad laughed and said, "Yeah, they'll need two magazines to fit YOU on the cover!" My mom, sister and brother all laughed at this. I shrugged my shoulders and pretended like I didn't care, but I really did. Eigth grade went on and it got even worse. When the year ended, I decided to spend my summer locked away in the house. I just wanted to be left alone. A few weeks before I began high school, my mom told me that I was fat and that if I didn't lose weight, the kids at school would tease me. I ignored her. Well, when my freshman year of high school started, I went feeling kind of confident. I had a few friends and enjoyed my classes. However, my new feeling of confidence was shattered within a few months. One day in Algebra, this boy who was a major drug addict, yelled, "Hey, Mackenzie!" I turned around and saw him extending his arms outward and puffing his cheeks up. The entire room burst out in laughter. I honestly did not understand what he was doing. I just laughed and turned back around. Well, when the bell rang, my friend came up to me and said, "You know, that boy was teasing you. He was saying that you are fat and ugly and everyone was laughing." I suddenly felt very crushed and spent the rest of the day quiet and withdrawn. I convinced myself that tomorrow would be alright, but I was so wrong. Everyday in Algebra, that boy would yell stuff at me and tease me and everyone in the room laughed! Nobody stuck up for me, which really hurt. Some of the kids even joined in and poked fun at me, too. I felt like I was on my own. I remember one day, the boy shouted, "Look it's Godzilla! Oh no wait, that's Mackenzie." He came up to me one day in study hall and said, "BLIMP!". He would talk about me to other people and said that I looked like a whale. We had to do square dancing in gym and, of course, I got stuck in his group. He begged the teacher to let him switch to another group, but the teacher said no. I had to dance with this really short guy from and the mean guy told the short guy, "Hey, you better watch out! Mackenzie might rip you right out of those little pants of your's with all of her blubber." I just ignored him and did what I was supposed to. I thought that maybe he would leave me alone but I was wrong. He told my friend, "I had to dance with Mackenzie in gym today. I fucking hate that fat piece of shit!" I was very hurt by this, and I continued to endure his painful emotional abuse. I didn't even fight back because I really couldn't say anything. I was a fat girl, and I had nothing and no one to defend me. So I just took it and I let him step all over me and break me. I would go home everyday and cry my eyes out. Luckily, he got kicked out of school by the time Christmas rolled around, and I felt safe. Of course, there were others who followed in his footsteps and teased me. By the time my freshman year had ended, I was so extremely depressed and I was full of so much self-hatred. I spent my summer hiding away in my house. A few weeks before school started, I found myself terrified. I didn't want to go back to that place. I cried and cried and cried. Then, it was time for me to begin my sophomore year. I went to my first class, Geometry, and guess who was in it? None other than the ignorant boy who teased me my freshman year! They let him back in school. And, as the day progressed, I learned that this boy was in most of my classes. I knew the year was going to be awful. But so far, he hasn't said anything remotely mean to me. But I know he will. Even though he isn't teasing me, there still are other people who tease me. I recently got into a fight with my former best friend and she said, "You're a bitch! Lose some weight," and walked away. Then, when my best friend heard about this, she went after the girl. She threw spit balls in the girl's hair. The girl turned around and said, "Just because I'm not friends with fat ass Mackenzie doesn't mean you have to be rude to me!" Well, my best friend said, "You just wait, the next time I see you outside of school, I am going to beat your ass!" My best friend is the only one of my friends that actually stuck up for me. All of my other so-called "friends" just listened to that girl insult me and they didn't do a damn thing about it. They didn't even defend me! It took this incident to make me realize who my true friends really are. I now only have one best friend, but she is amazing and I love her like a sister. She watches my back and I watch her's. Well, this girl called me later that night and poured out apology after apology. I forgave her, as I don't like bearing grudges, but I told her that I would never forget how cruel she was to me. She and I haven't spoken since then. Well, a few weeks ago, I got into a fight with another one of my "friends". She blamed me for spreading a rumor about her, which isn't true at all. She was also saying mean things about my best friend. So, my best friend told her to leave us both alone. My best friend also told this girl, "I think you're too fat for your clothes and you look orange because you tan too much!" Well, this girl said, "I'm not fat! Look at Mackenzie, she is twice the size of me." Ouch! I didn't do anything about it, though. I just decided to let it go. To make matters worse, all of the people who were supposed to be my friends have become best friends with this girl and they don't even care about the mean stuff she said to me. But whatever. And, oh yeah, the other day at lunch, I decided to go to my locker. Well, I was standing there, putting my books away, when I heard some stuff being shouted behind me. I didn't pay any attention to it because I thought I was just being paranoid. However, when I turned around, I saw a table full of guys looking at me and laughing, and one of the guys was yelling, "MOO!". I just gave them a really mean look and walked back to my table. I didn't even bother telling anyone about this, either. It's just too embarassing. I don't know why those boys did that to me. I never even did anything to them! Also, my older sister is absolutely beautiful. She is tall, thin, pretty, athetic and one of the most popular girls in her grade. She has all of these boys chasing after her. Kids from my grade who don't like me are friends with my sister. It's awful. One girl called me fat and ugly and said that I would be much prettier if I looked like my sister. Another saw me at a football game and said, "Whoa! That can't be ------'s sister because she is so fat!" My nephews have even called me fat. My four year old nephew once told me that I was too fat to wear a bathing suit. Let me tell you, that hurts. I no longer talk to people. I just walk through the halls in school with my head down. I keep to myself. I feel so out of place at school. I have withdrawn deep into myself and am pretty depressed. I hate school and I hate life. I doubt that things will ever change for me. At the moment, I am 5'4 and 168 pounds and a size 13. That is really disgusting, isn't it? Oh well. Things are never going to change.
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From: Tom F.
This is my story...
I never realized I was "fat" until attending kindegarten in Clinton Massachusetts when I was dancing in front of the entire grammar school in a christmas production of the nutcracker. The front button on my courduroy pants had broken open and my protruding belly was exposed to the entire audience. From that point on I was ridiculed incessantly by everyone in school. To this day whenever I even hear the soundtrack to the nutcraker I well up with tears. I am 30 years old and studying to be a lawyer. Even today as I try to become a lawyer I am tormented by comments from other students. (I made the mistake of removing my shirt at a couple of law school outings.)
It is hard to believe adults would act this way! I really find flaws in a society such as ours that has such an emphasis on physical attributes, and my goal as a lawyer will be to try and reverse some of these injustices.
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From: BigBruce
This is my story...
If you're a fat boy and you hate gym class, I know what you're going through. I'm 15 and it's the worst thing about school right now. My weight has always been a problem, but I realize that I'm really getting fat. I weigh about 260. It doesn't really bother me all the time, except for when it draws peoples attention to me. Like in gym class, or more specifically in the locker room. I hate when I have to change or shower there, because I know what always ends up happening. Everybody points at me and makes rude remarks or jestures. There's one boy who always tries to slap me or hit my backside or pat my belly in the open shower because "it makes such a great sound". Its totally humiliating. I'm not the only fat kid in the group - there is one guy whos like 14 and just HUGE - hes so fat his belly hangs over to his hips, and he has to wear like sweat pants over it all but you can still see the fat. He also gets teased a lot -it must be bad being that fat. I just wish people would leave me alone. If this sounds like what you go through at school, just know there are lots of us fat guys in the same boat.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
Still in school, the times are not that bad and so I guess I'm lucky.
In the early elementary school years, I was skinny. No one thought I would end up fat. Later in elementary school, the health teacher weighed us and I turned out to be at a weight that was not over weight, but it wouldn't hurt if I lost about 3 pounds. Later on, in the Middle School my weight dramatically increased. I was starting to like all the foods that were bad for me, and hating the foods that were good for me.
Luckily, some of my friends are also over weight, but they do not get teased. One of them is actually very secessful with boys, still overweight, but she has the greatest luck with all the new fashions and many boys are drawn to her beauty and sense of humor. The boys do not care aobut her weight. I wish I could say the same for me. I way about 15 pounds more then my friend does, and that of course makes a big difference. I can't ever recall someone calling me a horrid name in my face, but on the bus I've heard whispers behind my back.
I am not however the fattest child in my grade. The ones who are more fatter than I are very much teased.
My friends never tell me to loose weight, but I know they'd wish I wasn't so fat. I can remember a remark my friend said earlier this year, on a bus to a school trip. We sat in the back of the bus, and it was me, my friend, and a person who is very much liek a good friend to me. We sat in the back and naturally I had to sit on the outside. However the seat was very tired and my friend was not comfortable. She begged that I switch seats with another one of my friends, but I refused. She then began to compare me to another of my friends who happens to be much much more skinnier then I. Though I'm sure she didn't intend to hurt my feelings, my friend said I was a tree compared to my friend she called a stick. And she called me a big marble, and my friend a small marble. Now that hurt my feelings, because she was insulting how big I was compared to my friends.
I can only hope to loose weight as my doctor has told me I am in fact overweight and I am in need of much more excercise. I wish I had continued to take soccer like I had in elementary school, and if I had I wouldn't probably way as much as I do now.
I hate school gym, and though required it is a nightmare for me. I hate to run and I always fail the mile run my school has.
Of course my friends brag about how they make or almost make all psychical phitness tests that are held, when I can only say I beat less then half. I only beat the very easy ones and I can't really say I beat them, I make it on the number that is the limit to suceed.
I'm ashamed of that and I hope I can find some way to become more active. I do not want to enter highschool still being fat.
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From: Kelsie
This is my story...
I am 13 years old and i weight 164lbs. You might not think its that big but to me i am huge. I am made fun of all the time. All of the guys in my class call me fatty and hippo behind my back. My friends (tring to help) tell me what they are saying, but it only makes me feel worse. I have been tring to lose weight for along time now but nothing happens. I wonder if i will be big all my life. And the worst part of all is that every one in my class is thiner than me!!! I hate being big!!!!!
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From: Cathy
This is my story...
As I look over some of the other stories on this web site, so many experiences ring true to my own childhood. Like every other chubby kid out there, I was made fun of, teased by family and peers alike, made to feel inferior and was plagued with self-disgust and the belief that I somehow "deserved" this treatment because of my weight. However,looking back on these experiences as an adult, I can clearly see God's hand in the person it has shaped me to be: Having been the butt of cruel jokes, I'll NEVER inflict that pain on another human being. Having seen that my tormenters learned their jobs so well from their parents (and yes, that's exactly where they learned it), I'll NEVER allow my children to think it's okay to say hurtful things "all in good fun", because it's not fun for at least one person involved. When I got to high school I was a fairly popular person, having learned that fat chicks have to be funny to be accepted, and then allowing the sense of humor that had been hiding under my pudge to show. This may have gotten me invited to all the social events, and made me friends with quite a few of my peers, but it still didn't attract any of the 17 yr. old boys. Looking back now, that was a blessing in disguise also. Too many of my "pretty" classmates were making June wedding arrangments for themselves and the captain of the football team, pushing strollers down the graduation isle, or had no plans at all (thinking they could contiue to get by on their pretty faces). I didn't end up in any of these categories, thanks to my chub, and I'm eternally grateful. I'm now mature enough to know what love looks like, and know the difference between love and infatuation. I know the kind of impact my decisions will make on my life, and am responsible enough to make the correct ones. I didn't get myself in over my head at a young age, and was able to wait to make adult decisions until I was an adult. Sure, there was a lot of pain in my childhood because of my fat. However, there's a lot of temperance, patience, empathy, freedom and happiness in my adult life because of that same fat. It's all in how you look at it. Happiness is a decision, no matter what your size.
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From: Brendon
This is my story...
I'm a 12-year old boy who weighs 178 pounds.I've always been fat,but this year is the first year I've experienced very painful teasing.A couple jerks on the bus home from school decided to call me every cruel name they could think of,and say nasty,hurtful things like "How about you go home and eat all the twinkies you want and hopefully you'll die from some 'fat disease'"We have assighned seats,and I sat next to my popular crush.To add to the embarrasment,she started laughing too and cracking jokes.I felt like crying,but that would just give them a whole new reason to make fun of me.I'm gonna start trying to lose weight,doubting that it will work.
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From: Crimson Stained Lips
This is my story...
They spit on me. They kicked me. They threw food at me and called me "lard ass." They followed me home, their snickers and taunts trailing me from behind until the slam of my front door shut them out. They hissed in my ear about how i should go on a diet and then, when i finally did, they teased me about that, too. "Look, fat ass is on a diet. ha ha ha fat ass."
i wanted to disappear, so i did. It was no longer about looking good, because even in my unhealthy state of mind, i never thought i looked good as a skeleton. It was simply about becoming invisible so that no one could see me. Now that i'm invisible, all i want is to be heard; heard but not seen. Sticks and stones, right? i can guarantee, though, words hurt more. My physical scars have healed. Their shoe prints and spit no longer adorn my body as a badge of dishonor. And yet, it's their words that have followed me into adultood, tieing knots in my stomache and forcing up every bit of food that enters. With each purge, i flush their words down the toilet, along with a half digested chocolate malt tinted with crimson red, a bloody reminder of my past, acting as a contrast to my sickly pale skin. As a child, Mia (bulimia) was my only friend. i never thought my friend would, or could, kill me. At this point i no longer care. All i want is to get this message across to everyone who is willing to listen (read) and even those who aren't. Be careful what you say. Words can kill.
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From: R G W
This is my story...
I was a fat kid, starting from about 7th Grade on. In High School, I absolutely was horrified at gym class, having to shower with everyone. One time during the rope climb exercise, I was taunted by the jocks in my class and told that I could not get my fat butt up the rope. I was in a rage and went up that rope as fast or faster than any of them. The problem was coming down, as I could not get a good grip on the rope and burned my hands quite badly.
As an adult, I have been in shape for about 25% of the time, 75% "fat" I notice that when I lose weight, I have friends and aquaintances say things like "you were really huge" and even hurtful comments that were obviously kept inside of them when I was bigger. Also, some would comment when they saw a fat person in a negative way, which is something they did not do when I was bigger. Being fat sucks in many ways, but I know that it has given me a balance when I trend toward being judgemental toward others.
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From: Formally known as Big Cheese
This is my story...
I look at these memories and both see myself and cannot relate at all at the same time. I wasn't really born overweight nor did a disability hurt my ability to exercise. From what I can tell, I started gaining weight after my parents split up and my grandmother came to live with us. For the few years, I was fine until 4th grade or so when I noticed that not only was I was the tallest girl in the grade, but I was also gaining weight (I remember girls on the track team asking me how much I weighed and the number was 136. They looked traumatized) . (Note that it wasn't all together my fault. My father and grandmother both come from a Southern family where food is a big thing and I had a strange fondness for bologna sandwiches every single day after school). It didn't help my position in school that I've always been a bit of a weirdo. One of my good friends is what one would have considered "trailer trash," but we supported each other. I have always had the feeling of being left out, which to this day, follows me. Several times over the summer, people I had never met before tortured me. I've had my back used as a springboard in swimming pool (might I add, when I was underwater), had chili peppers shoved down my throat and dirt thrown at me. All because I was fat? Could be....
Hell raised into the Earth when middle school rolled around. I was always kind of awkard - I still am in a lot of ways. In sixth grade, I became very self-conscious mainly because of a girl named Sara. Sara was a girl smaller than me only in height. Weight-wise, she was also what one might call "chubby," but Sara seemed to have a better time fitting in because her parents had bigger bank accounts, she had "cooler" clothes, and she was also a bit manipulative. Sara was one of those friends that I seemed to attract a lot during middle school - the kind that would extort money from you, and, when no one else would hang out with them, hang out with you and insult you. She became convinced I owed her money and flipped me off everyday when she got off the bus. It got to point where she came over to my house, told my father that I owed her money and had him write a check for it. (A couple days later, her mom dragged her back over to give the check back. She claimed "My mom felt sorry for your dad.") She also helped start the torture on the bus. I developed much earlier than everyone else - my breasts also were quite large for a sixth grader, though they now are what many guys call "perfect." She got the guys started on calling me Pamela Anderson Lee (this followed me also through middle school) and saying I had footballs under my shirt. She also instilled in me much of the inner critizism and fear that I can still hear inside my own head. "You'll never get a boyfriend." "No one will ever love you!" and, of course, many people also told me to leave my choir class (my favorite class, even today) and transfer to another school. That year was the first time I also became depressed for the first time. That has also lasted to this day. In seventh grade, I was seriously considering suicide. Everyone was telling me I wasn't worth anything living, so why bear the pain anyway? My gym clothes had been stolen and many of my "friends" betrayed me.
Something stopped me though and later that year, I met my first boyfriend, who is still a good friend today. He was a mainly on-line boyfriend, but when I told him I was overweight, he told me I was wonderful because I was "cuddly." That is one of the greatest compliments I've ever recieved. Eigth grade was much better. I restored my faith in God and had true friends for the most part. My self-esteem was still pretty low, but I had enough courage to apply (and get into!) an Art school for vocal music. But I never got to attend because the summer before my freshman year of high school, i was diagnosed with bone cancer when visting my mom in California. I suffered for a year, but survived with all limbs intact. I started writing more (I had started writing seriously when I was 12, but didn't start showing others until 8th) and am now an accomplished songwriter/poet. When I returned to a regular high school (the art school couldn't take me when I couldn't attend) to most of the people I've grown up with, things were quite a bit different. I wasn't as concerned about clothes as I was (I was never into fashion) and I found music helped save my sanity. I also started to be apathetic about other's comments, particularly about my weight (althouhg I lost most of my weight when going through chemotherapy, I gained a lot back) I'm 17 now and am attending both high school and the local comminuty college. I am still somewhat overweight (at 32% fat, but 123 lbs of LBM), but the only negative comment I've recieved about my weight has been from an ex-boyfriend, who was emotionally abusive anyway, thus making his comment null and void. In fact, of the many guys I know at the moment, none of them will even let me call myself fat. A good friend, who I once dated and is training to be a personal trainer has commented that I am probably more healthy than most people. But, I try not to go on what others say. That's kind of what started this all in the first place. You shouldn't let a scale mesaure your worth. You should be healthy and happy - not what everyone tells you to be. Cool clothes are not gonna change your life, only you can do that. Stand up and be proud! Weirdos of the universe unite!
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From: Karen
This is my story...
To me school didn't mean education or support. It didn't mean opportunity or growth. It meant torture and ridicule, harassment and humiliation. It meant getting up everyday and facing the worse sort of death. The death of my self worth and happiness. The even slower death of my dreams and aspirations. I started gaining weight in the third grade. By the forth grade I was very heavy. That is the year I refer to as the demolition of my self esteem foundation. I don't remember the first time somebody called me fat. I just remember a hurricane of torment coming out of nowhere and knocking me to the ground. To the ground, where I’ve been ever since.
I came to school one day, having been absent the previous day, and learned that we had a substitute teacher when I was sick and everyone got their preferred names or nicknames written in thick black permanent markers on name tags taped to their desks. When I went over to my desk I saw to my horror the words "BACON GREASE" plastered across it. Then I looked up and slowly realized the other children were standing around watching me. They had been waiting for me to see it, holding in their laughter. I asked the girl sitting next to me “Anne” why this name was here. She said the class had picked it for me in my absence because that‘s the name I answer to. She said the substitute teacher thought it was funny. I was humiliated. I didn't know what to say or how to react. I felt my ears burning and I sat down. I was too embarrassed to tell our teacher, I didn't want them to think they had gotten to me. And so ensued the cycle that would be my demise. Their cruel pranks, and my best attempt at nonchalant ness. I refused to let them see me cry.
I came in from recess a few weeks later and discovered my spelling work book had disappeared from inside my desk. The next day I came to school and my workbook had mysteriously materialized back into my desk. I opened up the book and saw what they had done. They had taken a fat magic marker and wrote the words "FAT" on the front page, then I turned to the next page and it said "UGLY" and the next page said "FAT" and the next again "UGLY" they had ruined my entire spelling book from the first page to last. The words were written so big they covered each entire page. I was breathless and again slowly noticed the children all looking over at me waiting for my reaction. I slowly closed my desk and deposited my spelling book in the garbage on the way out for recess. I cried alone on the playground. Away from prying eyes and snickers. I started to think that something must be wrong with me. None of the other children were being treated this way. Somehow, I knew it must be my fault.
Days and weeks passed, the teasing was horrible on some days and less horrible on others. Christmas was fast approaching and I finally felt I had something to look forward to. The class Christmas party was fast approaching and we were participating in a "random" gift exchange. You bring presents for girls or boys or either. Then a girl and a boy the teacher picked got to "randomly" hand them out. "Anne" was chosen as usual, and a popular boy "Robbie". They were whispering and laughing in the back of the room. Each gift was handed out and I “happened” to be the last person to receive one. Finally Anne dropped the package on my desk , smiled down at me and said “Merry Christmas”. I thought she was being nice and sincere. She made me feel like a million dollars when she talked to me like a normal girl. I opened the present and saw a huge molded 10lb chocolate Garfield statue. With the words "Eat Up Fat-Ass!" written across the top of the box. I looked around and again realized everyone was looking and waiting. Finally when they could contain their laughter no longer, they let it out. It was loud and it seemed to echo for a thousand years. My teacher was clueless. I stuffed the chocolate into my bag and fought back the tears like I had done so many times before. I was getting angry at myself for being so weak. For being so fat. I was angry at myself for not standing up to them, but at the same time I felt deep down I deserved their torture. It was my fault I was fat.
January passed slowly and I became more withdrawn and sad. I came into class after recess one afternoon and noticed our teacher was not yet there. The other were kids were standing around talking, nothing seemed unusual. I went down to sit at my desk, then it happened. I sat down and the chair fell off the desk and the desk itself toppled over. I fell backwards and felt shooting pains down my back. The entire class was roaring with laughter shouting taunts of " you're so fat you broke the desk!" and "have you ever seen someone so fat that metal couldn't even hold them?" When I noticed none of my books where inside the desk I realized what they had done. I had sat down in the broken desk had been sitting in the back of the classroom collecting dust for week and a group of 10 year-old children decided it was the formula for the perfect prank. My desk was in the very last row at the back of the room making switching easy and unnoticeable. They had put my name tag on it and carefully placed it where my normal desk was. You know those moments in life where time passes slowly, and every second ticks on for eternity? This was one of those moments. I felt like I was outside myself watching someone else lying there in humiliation. And for the first time, I let them see me cry.
I went home that day in despair and my mother consoled me. She never told me to ignore them. She told me to stand up for myself, she told me to not let them control how I feel. Easy words to say, but for a fat 10 year old girl, impossible words to comprehend, but I was determined to try.
It became apparent that my teacher had trouble getting back to the classroom most days after recess and lunch. I began dreading those few minutes without his supervision. I walked in on one of those days with my head held high. Trying to put on a brave face though I knew they had been planning something all day. I walked in and the whole class minus maybe five kids were standing in a group. They all yelled at me and said " Hey Karen! J-E-L-L-O!" As they chanted the familiar jingle at me they all threw their arms in the air and began shaking their bodies uncontrollably. Then the familiar laughter and insults followed. I crumpled up into a ball in my mind and pretended I was someone else, anyone else. I hated them with every inch of my being and at the same time, I fantasized about them being my best friends. I just wanted them to stop, I wanted it all to stop, so I decided to take my mother’s advice and stand up for myself. I told my teacher about the cruel pranks and begged him to make them stop. His response was remarkable. “Well, kids will be kids, I will talk to them about the teasing but you really should learn to get along better with others.”
He didn’t even punish my classmates, he merely gave them a "treat others how you would want to be treated" speech. The next day at lunch I was outside on the playground I went to the farthest corner of the fence to eat. Suddenly I was being grabbed and pushed by several students. Seven of my classmates grabbed me from behind and pushed me up to the corner of the fence. I then watched in disbelief as they pulled out jump ropes and glared at me with looks of utter and complete contempt on their faces. Three older boys held me down and the girls, led by Anne, tied me to the fence while five others stood around me so the playground supervisors couldn't see. Anne then spat in my face and told me to keep my big fat mouth shut. She took my lunch apart piece by piece sticking it in my pockets, smashing it into my hair and rubbing all over my clothes. I was scared, I started sobbing and screaming but nobody noticed. The bell finally rang and the kids ran for the door, leaving me tied up, covered in food, spit, and dirt. One of the supervisors finally saw heard me screaming and ran up to untie me. She and the principal demanded to know who had done this to me but I refused to tell. I was afraid and ashamed, I felt I had brought it on myself, and I felt, even at the age of ten, that from that day on I was never going to be normal, I would always be different, engaging in a constant battle with myself and the world around me.
I have a million humiliating moments imprinted on my soul. Things teachers and other kids parents said, junior high, high school. The torment never stopped and these moments slowly took on a life of their own creating another victim of poor self image and fear of rejection. When people tell you something enough times, even if you don't want to, you begin to believe it. That’s when being fat becomes being worthless. My weight is the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night. It has consumed every inch of my soul, every breath of my spirit. I’m twenty two years old and I've never even been kissed. I return men's advances with a cold shoulder or a joke about myself because that is how I learned to cope with life. I had to make them laugh with me before they could laugh at me. At least that way I’m in control. If the opportunity arises to degrade myself for a cheap laugh I take it, time and time again. I laugh at myself all day long, but when I go home at night and look in the mirror I know there‘s nothing to laugh about. I feel like a mutant, like a freak, like a human defect that will never be “good enough“ or “normal“. To put it simply, I am damaged goods. The damage wasn’t to my body where scrapes heal and blood dries up, it was to my heart, where wounds run deep and scars don't fade. Suddenly one day I woke up and realized I had become a shadow of my former self. I have built up walls of bitterness and isolation around me and the worst part is, I feel like it’s the only way I can spare my heart of anymore pain.
I know those years will always be with me, haunting me, lying dormant below the surface threatening to erupt at any moment in a sea of emptiness and verbal poison, but I have to remember, I can’t change who I was, without changing who I have become. I think my experiences being a fat kid and an obese adult have taught me to how deceiving appearances can be. I know who my true friends are, and I know deep down inside that someday I will break free from the mental prisons I have put myself in. I just have to believe I deserve it.
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From: Bridey
This is my story...
I got fat when I started to develop, at 9 years old, and have been fat ever since. (I was a C-cup in fourth grade, and what I went through being the only girl in grade school to wear a bra is a whole story in itself.)
I was already a socially backward child, and becoming fat solidified my outcast position. It gave the creeps an obvious thing to target -- and, more critically, it gave the adults an excuse not to intervene. When I was just a strange child, an adult would occasionally step in to protect me from the sharks. Once I was fat, that stopped. After all, if I would just lose the weight, nobody would make fun of me, right?
But in junior high, this backward fat chick went out for drama -- and I am astonished, in retrospect, that I had the courage. And we did a play that called for a narrator. The teacher said it could be either a boy or a girl, so I tried out. And did it well -- well enough that even the people in class who regularly harassed me me were temporarily silenced, and one or two were even complimentary.
Well, a day later the teacher showed me how long the part was and asked if I was sure I could learn it. I said I was, and I was really excited, sure that meant I'd be getting the part.
And when the teacher cast the play, he gave the role to a good-looking boy who hadn't auditioned nearly as well and, with a sneering "Sorry, Bridey," cast me as a "townswoman" with no lines. The boy who got the part actually apologized to me.
Of course, the teacher was trying to scare me off by showing me how long the part was. Seems that when he said a girl could get the part, he didn't mean a fat girl.
And that was the first thing I wanted, and earned, that I didn't get just because I was fat. Not the last, of course, and far from the most important. But it was, as far as I can recall, the first.
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From: Sarah
This is my story...
When I was 11, my grandmother (the grand dame of the family) made the decision to transfer me from my urban elementary school to a slightly less urban "middle school academy", complete with corporate talk of "academic excellence" and mandatory uniforms for all students.
I was already well over 150 pounds (and about 5'1) at that time, and consequently unable to fit into child-sized clothing anymore. My grandmother was the kind of person who believed that there was such a thing as "the largest possible size", and if you couldn't fit into this arbitrary size (16 or 18), you had to force it. You had to squeeze yourself into these tiny clothes because otherwise, you'll have to start ordering out of SPECIAL catalogs or shopping at the most shameful place in existence, LANE BRYANT.
Of course, I believed all her fatphobic propaganda.
She drove me to a little family owned uniform shop and I was told that the largest size of the uniform pieces I needed were a child's size 18. The pants were so tight and stiff that I had to lie down to get them on in the dressing room, but I lied to my grandma and told her they fit fine because I was too ashamed to tell her the truth. As far as I was concerned, the size 18s were my only option.
I wore the pants and the shirts (which fit slightly better, because they were stretchy) to school for about a month, until the day I bent over and the inner thigh seams on both legs split.
I panicked and knew there was no way I could replace them, so I resorted to putting on a pair of similarly colored shorts under the ripped pants, thinking no one would notice.
Much to my dismay, that day was gym class, which involved sitting on the floor and doing calisthenics. I tried to keep my hands in my lap as much as I could, but there was only so much I could do and of course, everyone noticed.
"Your pants are ripped!"
"Why don't you buy some pants that fit?!"
All I could do was try not to cry and say "I know. I should." Try to laugh it off, like I had plenty more pants at home.
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From: monica
This is my story...
Junior high was hell for me. Not only was I going through a rough time at home (parents divorcing, constant moving and shuffling around, etc.) but I was being constantly harassed at school. I was already self concious and felt bad about my weight but EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. at school I was reminded of my "fatness" and teased about it.
One of the harshest memories is being "mooooed" at in the hall as I would walk down. It would come from everywhere. Also, the kids thought it was oh so clever to turn my name Monica into "Moni-Cow."
On my birthday in 8th grade, my friends decorated my locker with a poster for people to sign and wish me Happy Birthday. There were a handful of nasty comments that ended up on my poster. (in reference to my weight.. calling me fat, telling me to call Jenny Craig, etc.) It was awful.
I can't say that all of that hell in Junior is completely to blame for my issues now, but I know it had a significant impact on me and still haunts me. I am now very underweight (diagnosed with anorexia) and have been fighting anorexia/bulimia for 8 years.
Words hurt. A lot. And people need to know that they can stick around and echo in people's heads for years after.
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From: ladyloo
This is my story...
Conan. Sherman Tank. Cow. Moo'ed at from a moving car. Asked out on a date in the hallway as a joke. Tormented. Laughed at. Whispered about. I'm amazed at the sense of entitlement these people had - these kids who made my school years a living hell. Being six feet tall at age 13 is not a good time. Developing at a rate that terrified me, and had me wailing at my mother, "What is happening to my body?!" Hips, thighs, boobs at eye level of all the boys in school. I was an outsider, the new kid, from away. It was middle school in a small town. Jokes at my expense constantly. "Accidents" where I would be hit in the head with baseballs in gym class, or tripped, or shoved into walls.Complete social isolation and ostracization. Children are cruel, and adults ineffective.
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From: Lexie- Big and Proud
This is my story...
“Big girl.” I’ve always been a “big girl,” except for, perhaps, when I was born- tipping the scales at 4 pounds, 9 ounces. A premature baby destined to be a “big girl.”
In kindergarten, I came home weeping after a girl threw mud on me and called me names. The teacher loaned me a book entitled Don’t Call Me Fatso; I loved it. I thought, in my young age, maybe I could lose weight and be happy like the girl in the book. I was only half wrong.
I was always a loner. I liked to read and never had many friends. Throughout elementary school I was called a dog, a fatso; O, yes and my personal favorite- jellyroll. It never seemed like much of an insult to me: A jellyroll was sweet and filled with tart, tangy fruit… It’s not so bad to be compared to that. During my elementary school days, my very supportive mother would sew me clothing in uniform colors so that I didn‘t have to wear the tight, unflattering clothes. She was quite upset at my coming home everyday in tears and taught me a truth so resounding that I can never forget it. She told me to tell the children who teased me “You’re making fun of me because you don’t like yourself.” The realization of how true this is shocked me and I used it often.
In junior high my tormentors learned curse words. Now, I was a fat bitch. Quite the upgrade, isn’t it? I dreaded health classes because I knew, sooner or later, we’d talk about the food pyramid and I could feel all eyes on me. Their stares could have burnt a hole in my back if they each had the strength of just one lit match. One day, after class, a boy who was in a few of my classes waited outside the classroom for me. When he saw me, he threw raisins and M&Ms at me. He called me a whale and told me he was surprised that a fat girl like me wasn’t eating the food up from the ground. Boys often pushed their buddies over to me and said “Hey, isn’t that your girlfriend?” while their buddies scrambled to stay away from me.
High school… was… high school. My freshman year, a kid called me fat and kicked me in the back of the knees and made me fall while walking up the stairs. Other than that, not too bad, I suppose, except for my junior and senior years. During my junior and senior years there was a boy… one boy… that I had to walk past every day. (We passed each other on a thin suspended walk-way between two buildings.) He would walk by me and say something sexual, something mean. And I would ignore him. It didn’t stop. So I started to stand back and wait for him to pass and when he was gone, I’d go to class. Once, I just got fed up with him and asked him what his problem was. He ran. He was such a coward that he wouldn’t even face the little, fat chick he was teasing. I had gone to my counselor before this occasion and I went after. I paid 2 or 3 visits to my counselor who did nothing but watch me weep.
My senior year, it started up again. I had to walk past where he and his troop stood to get to my class. As I walked, I would get a sexual comment, whoops and cat calls, teasing and a group of about 2 or 3 confronting me. At one point, the boy had a cone used to make your voice louder that was handed out during a foot ball game. He called, “Free cock! Free cock!” And then, as I walked by, pointed the cone right in my face and shouted, “But not for you!”-as if I’d ever touch a thing as foul, as shriveled and ill as his penis. HA! He still wishes! But I still went to my counselor… and still… nothing was done. Once, I even went up to him and ended up surrounded by his friends as I besought him to have some balls and face me. He wouldn’t. Coward.
It really came to a head when I was walking to class and all of a sudden the boy ran up to me holding a piece of cardboard cut out in the shape of a knife and said “I’m going to fucking kill you!” and followed me to class growling. (Now that I look back on it, I should have slugged him and claimed self defense.) I went directly to my counselor the moment I knew the kid was gone. The counselor never did anything… so finally, my mom got in on it. I really didn’t want it to come to that, but nothing was being done. She wrote the principal and my counselor calling him out on his apathy for the situation. The dean of the school called me in and in the end the boy was expelled from the school, apparently he’d been in trouble before. I didn’t really want him to be expelled… that was just the school covering their ass because the counselor didn’t do his job. I just wanted to talk to the kid and let him know that I wasn’t going to take his shit. I just wanted it to stop. Unfortunately, because he was expelled, that wouldn’t be the last of my torment: His friends, angry because he was gone, took his place in harassing me.
It is good to know that I went into the my counselor’s office and let him know what a sorry excuse he was for a school worker. I told him he should quit his job because he didn’t deserve to go home every day thinking he made a young person’s life better when all he did was sit and watch them cry. I shouted at him. I told him that he was the reason my torture went on for so long. I told him that it could have been over the beginning of my junior year but I had to suffer until the end of my senior year because he refused to help. I told him that kids commit suicide when adults won’t actively help them. And when I reminded him that I had been in his office begging for help “a number of times” that year, he had the balls to say “two times.” I looked him in the eye and said “Two is a number, idiot. It should only take one.” In reality I had been in over 15 during the two school years.
Though my harassment and torture has scarred me, I can now look at myself and see a beautiful woman. I would not wish my pain on anyone, ever and hope we can educate young people about the beauty that all people have and warn them of the pain they can cause very easily. It’s taken a long time but I love myself and everything I stand for and I think all of you should too. The things I’ve gone through have cemented honorable traits in me, I think.
I’m fat and fine. Big and beautiful. Plump and pretty. Large and lovely. I’m also smart and creative and irresistibly cute. I’m glad I’m a big girl because now I can stand up against the world and say “HA! Dig this world! You’re not going to make me hide! You’re not going to make me cry! I’ve been through it all! You’re just going to have to learn to love me!” My friends, make the world love you too. I love you. The next step is to make sure you love you. The world will follow.
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From: Crimson
This is my story...
I just recently turned 24 which is pretty amazing for this still fat kid. I was a skinny kid until the summer before 3rd grade. I had never thought to judge those who were different from me I grew up in a very diverse neighborhood with parents who always taught me that everyone is special. I had difficulty fitting in even when I was thin because I was very clumsy and still am. When I started to gain weight my family, friends (the few I actually had), teachers as well as my doctors never thought much of it at first. It was all just "pre-growth spurt" fat. However my classmates jumped on the chance to make fun of the fat girl. It damaged my self esteem for years to come. For the most part teachers and parents tried to help protect me from the stabbing comments that got more painful and more complex as the years went on. The first time I tried to kill myself I was finishing up my 3rd grade year. We move to a supposedly better area after 4th grade and I thought of it as a fresh start and maybe I wouldn't be judged for the fat but for the me on the inside. Instead on my first day of 5th grade it was even worse. I was lucky for 5th and 6th grade I had very caring teachers who helped me build some esteem and helped me to view myself as person and not some repulsive blob. Jr. High got worse yet again with teachers who could barely even remember my name let alone make me feel like less of a freak. I tried killing myself several more time through out the rest of Jr. High and up to my Junior year in High School. I think one of the things that changed my mind about suicide was when one classmate looked at me and said "You are so fat and ugly no one will ever love you and you might as well kill yourself and put everyone out of the misery of having to see your fat ass." That comment didn't sting so much as it pissed me off to the point that I had the sudden desire to stay alive just to piss him off! My parents still don't know about my numerous attempts and really how depressed I was growing up. I feel much better about myself now because I have found plenty of people who love me for me and would if I were 250LBs or 150LBs (ideal weight for my height). I came across this page when just messing around with Google but I am so glad I got the chance to tell others some of the things I went through because of my weight.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I have been fat since I was about six months old. I was a chubby kid and what would be considered now to be a curvy teenager. I was tormented for being fat so much that now when I look at me at age 15 or so, I wonder why they did - I was about a size 16, but totally suited for my height and bone structure, just a bit overweight. This was in the 70s.
When I was in the 6th grade - 11 years old - we had a party for leaving elementary school. Some of the boys had taken to calling me "the quake".
One of them had his mother iron on letters to the back of his tshirt - which said "Beware of the Quake". Everyone thought it was hysterical, teachers included (then again, they also participated in much of my torment). I even managed to take a photo of it, I was so horrified by what he'd done - I wanted proof.
Those grade school years shaped my thoughts about myself in ways none of those people could ever comprehend. That story is just the tip of the iceberg.
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|| From: Pretty Lynn
This is my story...
as a fat child I made fun of inside the classroom, on the playground, just walking through a store, but the most painful words came from my family. I never really understood my mother's thinking, as she was overweight as well, but she delivered the most severe and painful words I've ever gotten. I have memories of sitting on the living room floor watching Saturday morning cartoons, and my mother would walk into the room. I could feel her staring at me with such hatred and disgust before she'd remark "you're so fat. I wouldn't be surprised if you died of a heart attack before you turn 15." she couldn't stop with just that, though. when my body became too large to fit into a pair of shorts, she'd give them to my older, skinny sister, and tell me that it might be a while, but eventually my sister would grow into them. on another occasion, when I was nine years old, I wanted to play softball for my school, so when I approached my mother about the possibility of trying out, I was told that the uniform company didn't make uniforms in my size. I remember overhearing my mother talking to my aunt, laughing at me saying "yeah, she wants to try out for a softball team! can you imagine that?! she'll be out of breath before she makes it to first base!" my mother seemed to enjoy humiliating me. as a child, when given a slice of watermelon on a plate, I'd end up spilling the juice, so I began using Tupperware bowls sense normal bowls were too small for the rind. my mother had my aunt over one day, and they were discussing my weight gain when my mother grabbed one of the large Tupperware bowls and told my aunt that I fill it with cereal every morning and eat it in one sitting. she said it right there with me in the room; I just couldn't believe what I was hearing, so I corrected her and informed her of what I really used them for. she began yelling at me, saying that I was accusing her of lying, and she lifted my shirt high above my head and shouted "look at all that. just look at that! how can you tell me that you're not eating as much as I said? I can barely afford to keep food in your mouth, much less the rest of the family, too!" as I'm writing this so many memories pop into mind. too many to write, really. I'm 21 now, so obviously my mother's prediction of death by 15 was wrong. she denies that any of the above ever happened, but my siblings remember it well. though she doesn't try to hurt me as often, she still refers to my favorite clothing store as "Omar the tent maker". I'm lucky that at this point in my life I've found people who love me despite my weight. my boyfriend makes me feel incredibly special and loved, as well as beautiful. he and my friends have helped me realize that my mother was (and still is) poisoning my life by saying those hurtful things. and now, though her words still hit hard, it's easier for me to shrug them off. I don't want to have to cut off contact with my mother, but I will for the good of my sanity and feeling of self-worth. I've grown so much in the last ten years.
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From: David Zelig
This is my story...
I do not know when I became a fat child. I have a picture of myself at five, climbing a wooden jungle gym, and I am long and lean. So, after that. I do know that it began over pop tarts, of all things. You see, Kellogg's began making pop tarts, and my family began buying them, and from thence eating them. I liked blueberry. I do not so much now (that is another story), but back then, all things blueberry, I liked. Chiefly pop tarts and muffins. At any rate, one morning my folks suggested that I eat only half a pop tart instead of a whole one. They did not elaborate, and I was confused, naturally; a whole pop tart had been sitting just fine with me. I saw no reason to change an existing food policy, especially one that seemed to be working so well. I remember resisting, but relenting. This half pop tart policy, I did not like so much. "Half" very often ended up being far less than half, with the larger portion returned to the bag so that it would be nice and stale the following morning. I was not aware of my weight, or my looks, and to some extent I still am not. By the seventh grade, however, I was definitely a compulsive overeater. My mother fixed me reasonable meals, and I would sneak food all day long and into the night. Maybe it was the stress of moving from a class of six in a school of maybe a hundred and fifty to a class of two hundred fifty in a school of six hundred. Ah, public school. For whatever reason, my school photograph put on probably thirty pounds between seventh and eighth grades. I developed adolescent asthma, which I have left behind me, and which I suspect may have been psychosomatic. I got sick a lot; to be fair, I feigned illness a lot. But asthma drugs did succeed in making me sick on many occasions. My mother, a nurse in a pediatric practice, ended up taking me with her to work more than I would have liked. Check ups were bad news. My Doctor had a bit of a W. C. Fieldsian attitude towards fat kids. Usually, his diagnosis sounded something like "You're fine. There's just too much of you." My mother obsessed about my weight, and I continued to sneak food. Bagels, mostly, other breads, chicken noodle soup in a cup, Arizona iced tea, and any candy I could get my hands on. My parents hid candy from me, and I never found where. When they brought treat food into the house they could not hide, I devoured it, and got in trouble. They bought a box of thirty ice cream sandwiches. I ate three or four a day for five or six days running. They caught me, obviously. I knew they would catch me, but I convinced myself that turning the box around so that the open flap faced the back of the freezer would allow me to escape detection. The most humiliating repercussion from that episode came the day following, when Oprah featured an obese single mother, her four-hundred pound teen boy and her one-hundred fifty pound seven-year old. Mom called me into the room (I was not an Oprah fan; go figure), pointed to the kid on TV, whose lap was missing (I felt sorry for him. I wondered if he was able to go to school, and hoped so), and announced to me, "that could very easily be you." I stayed awake all night scribbling panicky gibberish with a shaky hand. By my sophomore year in high school, I was two hundred twenty five pounds, easily twenty five pounds heavier than I imagined when I ascended the doctor's scale and announced that it must be broken. The doc pointed to some discolored scar-like skin on the inside of my right arm and told me those were stretch marks, which indicated that I'd put the weight on very fast. Iced tea and cup soup late at night, every night, plus starches all day probably played a major hand in that. Still got'em. I was scared, and I told him that I wanted the weight removed. SO I went on the Atkins diet five years before anybody knew it was the Atkins diet, or as I like to call it, "crazy nightmare diet." Rice was the only one of my favorite foods that made the cut. Everything else was either stuff I wouldn't eat (liver? no. Not liver) or stuff I wasn't crazy about. For months I ate egg whites for breakfast and had yogurt and cold turkey for lunch. Some kind of turkey for dinner, usually, also. I still ate compulsively, something like three to five granny smith apples in a row late at night (they kept better than the other kinds), but I was somehow losing weight. I made it down to, let's say, 185, at just under six feet. Then, of course, I went out of my cotton-picking mind. I began eating raw spaghetti, because anything not prepared, of course, didn't really count, right? Raw spaghetti. Try it once. Grab a bundle, bite off a wad and suck on it 'til it gets soft enough to chew. Only one other time did I eat raw spaghetti, and that was when I came home tired from working all day in college, had nothing else in the house and felt too fatigued to boil the stuff. I do not recommend. When I went away to college, I actually lost weight the first year. Every time I came back from school, everyone told me I had lost weight. This went on even after I gained everything back. I assumed everyone remembered me at my fattest, so that every time they saw me it appeared to them that I had lost. Neat trick, eh? I don't know pound wise, but I do know that at six feet the worst it got was 38-"relaxed" Dockers slacks started getting a bit hard to button in front. I think I'm a bit out of childhood, here, but there's closure to be gotten. By some miracle (I have no idea how I did it), I lost just about the whole enchilada the last semester of college. My family was telling me how good I looked constantly. I was described as a "bean-pole." I was told I should avoid losing any more, even though I still have a bit of a belly and some ass fat. It's probably a good thing I moved away from home, because when I stay with the folks I eat everything that isn't nailed down. Somehow, on my own, I'm more level headed. Still, I can't tell the difference. Except in my face, in which the absence of a double-chin is easy to spot, it's as if my body is invisible to me. It all looks the same. And I am paranoid about gaining back, since I'm not sure how I lost in the first place. I do know that I eat less food now. I also know that there are certain foods it would not be a good idea to keep in the house, because I will simply consume everything in the package in one sitting. I am talking about cheeses, bagels, just about anything that is pre-packaged and requires no preparation. I bought ice cream today. I ate three bowls tonight. I am afraid to buy ice cream again.
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From: Lisa Love
This is my story...
I always thought I was a fat kid. I was told I was a fat kid. My food was always monitored and it seemed I was always being put on a diet or some food restriction. I grew up being led to believe that being fat was a very bad thing. I didn't understand this because both my mother and my grandmother who I lived with were fat. My grandma WAS fat, but she was FIT. She used to mow an acre and a half of yard with a push mower in her fifties and sixties with no problems at all. She used to garden for hours out on her hands and knees, weeding and planting and reaping her crop. She was my first role model of a fit and fat woman and I thought she was the coolest. In fact, if I hadn't been told that being fat was bad I don't think it ever would have entered my mind. Nobody at school bothered me about it and my friends didn't seem to care. Why was my family so dead set against it? It always baffled me. I grew up thinking I was substandard because I wasn't thin. I was always trying to change my naturally voluptuous body into something it could never be. When I look back on pictures of me growing up now: http://www.lisalove.20m.com/photo4.html I don't even look fat! I think my family meant well. I think they were trying to save me from ever becoming fat (I am fat now) and experiencing the discrimination that goes along with it, but I think their good intentions had tragic consequences. I grew up feeling inadequate. I grew up feeling ugly. I grew up thinking no one would ever love a fat girl. I grew up feeling guilty for nourishing my body with food. I grew up thinking to be fat was to be bad. And when I eventually became fat it translated into my thinking I had finally become bad. Oh what I would give to go back in time and educate my family to teach me to love my body. That my differences made me beautiful and that I was a strong, powerful, beautiful girl capable of anything I wanted in life. Finally after discovering the Size Acceptance community I have found that family who supports what my body looks like and tells me those things I long to hear: I am beautiful, I am special, I am capable, I am good, and I am fat and it is a great thing to be.
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From: Mary Ellen
This is my story...
My parents spent a lot of time and effort on my weight problem. They tried everything, from diets to rewards, from humiliation to practically begging. They had me checked out at Yale to be sure that nothing was really wrong with me. I will never forget undergoing all these tests, and being so afraid. Nothing was found. When I was thirteen they sent me to a camp for fat girls for the summer. I lost about 40 pounds that summer, but regained it all by the next summer. I was so embarrassed to be "sent away" to this camp. I think embarrassment characterizes my childhood fairly well. I think I was a terrible embarrassment to my parents, even though they never said it. I can remember their friends and relatives saying things like what are you doing about her weight, etc. I feel sorry that my parents had to be subjected to that. I can only imagine what was said behind my back and behind theirs. I think my parents did they best they knew how. I have two "normal" sisters and a brother, and I think I embarrassed them too. I never really was involved in the same activities and things they were, and I remember reading a lot when I was young and doing a lot of solitary things. My siblings sometimes made fun of me, but not too much.
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From: Tina
This is my story...
I was an overweight child but not an obese one. I grew up in an Italian family where eating was praised: to a point. Weight gain , however was not praised. There were also problems I had with childhood sexual abuse and I think the pounds made me feel somehow safer. My mother did not actually berate me for it that I can remember. She did put my appearance down in general though on occasion. Sometimes she's called me lazy. Sometimes she'd yell at me to get off my fat ass. My father yelled at me once after we went to select clothing and my body image after playing with the other girls and their hipless "dawn dolls" left a lot to be desired. At age 11 I already hated the way I looked. When I look at pictures from childhood I see I was very pretty and not at all obese. I was slightly chubby. I am now an overweight adult. I am 5'6 and weigh 200 pounds. This is the heaviest I've ever been in my adult life. I must be going through something . I gained 40 pounds in the past three years. It seems to have happened when I went back to work after staying home for 9 years with my child. Maybe it's because of the childhood sexual abuse and other issues I've experienced. I am also the parent of a beautiful daughter who is obese. I never tell her this; but doctor s and her school mates do. I sometimes make half hearted comments or suggestions about both of us modifying our diets and getting together an exercise plan but I can't seem to follow through. I am worried about her. Today I noticed stretch marks on her hips. She's about 5'1 and she weighs 153 pounds. She also has emotional problems and school problems. I don't want to be a nag and I don't want to make her feel bad but I would like her to move more and eat a little healthier.
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From: Precious
This is my story...
Well I guess I can start out this way, you see I used to be very skinny until I got into 3rd grade when I started gaining weight. I didn't really notice it until it was to late I guess, one day I just looked up and it was like this. I think it was because I used to be active and I am not really any more. my family and friends all say I am not fat, but sometimes my cousin does not help. he pretends to make up games but there is always a fat person on there named after me. he laughs and thinks it is funny but really not at all. I am only about 30 lbs overweight. well actually my weight is fine for my age but I would like to get rid of my tummy and a little off the thighs. I am determined and my mom is helping me. I like to play basketball and getting more active again is the best thing for me I guess right now. but I am loosing weight. I've lost two lbs now and would like to keep loosing. my mom bought a treadmill and I am getting on it a few times a week and that is helping me. I try not to go over eating a certain # of calories a day which is really easy if you balance your day out and it works but you can't go having snacks. but basically my family doesn't care how much I weigh. and still since my cousin is skinny he doesn't have to worry about it but it does hurt. I am a strong girl so if it was coming from someone else I could take it and probably wouldn't care but not my cousin.
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From: anne
This is my story...
When I was a child I was always a little bit overweight. Probably five to ten pounds. Everyone else was normal or skinny so I was the one picked on. I rose above it but the pain will always be there nagging in the back of my mind. My husband is a warm and loving man who never cares how much I weight. My issue now is my beautiful 11 year old daughter. Since the second grade on she has had a tummy that won't go away. She wanted to wear a two piece by her birthday so we started walking a mile in the morning and doing sit-ups - together. We love our time each morning away from everyone else when she tells me all the little things going on in her life. She's in the fifth grade now and still working on her tummy. She's about 15 pounds overweight - all in her stomach area so it's more pronounced. I'm feeling so scared and helpless as her mother to help her. I know if she doesn't get it off - it will be a battle for life. We walk in the morning, she plays fall, winter and spring soccer. We have added running
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From: Daddy'sGirl
This is my story...
When I was a child, I had a lot of food allergies. So, from the get-go, the foods I could eat were severely restricted to bland, non-sugary (read: boring) foods. In spite of this, I was a fat child. Actually, I think I started out being just slightly chubby -- not the skinny child my older sister had been -- and I took after my Dad's side of the family, who are healthy-built Italians. I remember my mother putting me on my first diet when I was 4. I was in nursery school, and wanted to wear a Strawberry Shortcake dress to my "graduation," but my mother said it wouldn't look as pretty unless I lost a few pounds. I didn't know any better, so I did what she said, and the cycle began. The more restrictive she was, the more I snuck food, and ate compulsively, regardless of what I was eating. My dad never once nagged me about my weight. He died when I was 11. I was chastised all my life by my grandmother, mother and my sister, told "You don't need to eat that," told "I love you no matter what," while telling me I'll never be happy unless I become thin. I suppose, in my mother's mind, she thought she was helping me, trying to change my body so that the merciless teasing at school would stop. But I'm 24 now, and I still haven't gotten over her cruel behavior, the cruel taunts from school kids, or the idea that my happiness is dependent upon my dress size. Maybe, someday, I'll get there.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I know now, as a 25 year old and 330lb woman, that I have several different metabolic and endocrine disorders. But I didn't know that when I was a child. Nobody knew that. Everyone thought that my problem was that I was lazy and I ate all the time. I didn't though. I remember so much of my life being scared because I couldn't control my body and feeling guilty just for existing. I probably weighed over 200lbs by the time I was 14. I was tall, and that helped, but not enough. School was torture, I wanted to die when I saw the way some people looked at me. I knew, I always knew, that because I was fat I didn't deserve to have friends or, god knows, a boyfriend. It was unthinkable. Something about me was so obviously bad and disgusting, people didn't want to be with me. My name was Blubberbutt for years. In high school the gym teacher used to make me run extra laps after everyone else had finished, because I 'needed to lose the weight.' Even in college, I remember a day when a group of guys followed me all around campus yelling "Jiggle! Jiggle! Jiggle!" with every step I took. From the time I was about 10 years old perfect strangers would stop me on the street. I remember being out to the mall with girlfriends once when I was 15 and a woman ran up to me and yelled, "Why don't you go on a diet!" Worse than that though, was the pain and embarrassment I caused my family. I had been their darling when I was little. Now I definitely was not, and I knew it was because I was fat that they didn't love me any more and were sad when they looked at me. My younger brother was embarrassed to know me, except when he would invite his pre-teen friends over so they could gawk at my 'big tits.' Once I made the mistake of taking the same bus home he rode. I had had a happy day and wanted to see him. No one would come near me on the bus and when my brother boarded, he looked like he wanted to die. Then he pointed at me and the empty seat next to me and yelled, "Hey look! That girl's so fat she takes up two seats!" Everyone laughed but me. My mother told me that I was an embarrassment to her, and she didn't know what to do with me. My grandmother always always always managed to put a comment into everything she said about what I shouldn't eat. My mother informed me in high school that if I kept going, they wouldn't make clothes big enough for me to wear and she didn't know how the family would clothe me. All this time, I was eating less than 10 grams of fat a day and watching my calories. I was active too, but I kept gaining weight. Anyway now I know why, and I can treat it. I'm happy. I moved around a lot, found myself, learned that I wasn't a bad person because of how I looked. I dated models in college and married a gorgeous kind man a year ago who tells me I am beautiful every day. I do a lot of volunteer work, I want to make sure other women with these disorders don't suffer so like I did.
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From: Elizabeth
This is my story...
When I was a child I use to come home crying because of others picking on me. My mom and grandmother were always there offering me a shoulder to cry on. My grandfather (who is a good person) but made me feel like a whale in a small house. As I grew up I became more verbal which lead to tears (it made him feel bad when I cried). I would get angry and tell him off, not mean or using curse words but just how I felt when he said those things to me. I understand they want to help but to me, but don't. It has to be MY decision not anyone else. He has laid off, but every time I see some slim fast commercial or something, I tense up when he is in the room because I don't want to hear "You need to lose weight". Duh, hello I live with my "problem" 24/7. I know that I am large. Now, I don't hear him say that anymore. I do tense sometimes when the news talks about over-weight children. It is hard for someone to understand the emotional and physical stress of peer pressure. Lose weight, have sex, have a boyfriend etc. etc. I sometimes want to scream. I know that there are health problems associated with being overweight, but so is smoking, drinking and the list goes on. Know what though, I LOVE ME FOR ME. I don't want to change. I like to stick out in a crowd. I will be remembered. I am different. I am a BBB. (Big Beautiful Brunette) who is successful in whatever I do, wherever I go. Here are some hints when you are feeling blue: MAXIMIZE YOUR GOOD POINTS, MINIMIZE THE BAD ONES. NO ONE IS PERFECT. BE HAPPY FOR WHO YOU ARE NOT WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE. Beauty fades in time, what you are inside is there forever. Live life to the fullest and enjoy who you are. There is only one you. No one else can fill those unique shoes.
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From: Kelly
This is my story...
I have always been "heavy", but I got fat my senior year of high school when I hit `198 lbs and being only 5'2" didn't help at all. Now, add 40 lbs. to that and that's where I'm at now. One memory I can't get out of my mind, I was about 10 years old and me and my 2 skinny cousins were out "running around" we went to one of their friends' house, who was also very skinny along with her older brothers. Well, one of the brothers got out the scale and the "fun" started. They started teasing me about being careful and not break the scales when I got on them and they probably wouldn't go up that high. Well, I just ran out of the house crying, while my cousins and their friends just kept laughing. I'm 33 years old and that was about 23 years ago, I just won't ever forget.
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From: LWF
This is my story...
I grew up in a home with a heavy father. I didn't think I was a heavy kid at all but was told all the time I was fat. My grandmother used to say it was just "baby fat" and it would go away. I loved her for defending me. I missed her when she died, nobody in my corner anymore! When I look back on my childhood pictures, I still don't see a fat child. I see a normal healthy kid. I am now a "fat" adult. Sometimes I wonder if it was partly because I was always told I was fat? Kind of like telling a kid they are stupid? As soon as I could live on my own, I ate, ate, ate. You see, at our house you could only eat at specified times. Nothing in between meals. I learned how to sneak a few things out of the cabinets while my parents were out on a shopping trip. Maybe a cookie or mini candy bar by moving it ever so slightly out of the package so as not to disturb the box/bag. Finally off on my own, I was still told I was "Too fat" to find a man! Well, I was in the right weight range back then for today's' charts! I was no Alley McBeal. Now, I am in the Woman's' Clothes and accepting myself as a "large person". My husband married me at this weight. He looks all the time at the "Skinnies". Yes, it bothers me, but he did choose me. I lost most of the weight a few times. I can't eat that way forever! The rest of my life could be a long, long time or it could be tomorrow. I don't binge anymore and I stay about the same weight. I wish society could accept us all for who we are inside and not just for who we are outside. I was treated so differently when I lost the weight. Just watch how a "large person" is watched and treated at a buffet! Nobody watches the "skinnies". Let's all keep our heads high, dress nice and keep as good an attitude as possible.
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From: Finally Happy
This is my story...
When I was a child I was thin up until my mother re-married when I was 11. My step father was an alcoholic and was emotionally abusive to my entire family. He had children from his previous marriage and in his eyes my siblings and I were pond scum, or so it seemed, his children were perfect and could do no wrong. We could do nothing to please him. He wanted me to call him dad, even though I preferred to call him by his real name, Dick! I just couldn't bring myself to accept him as a father figure which I have never really had. My father died from cancer when I was only 4 years old and I felt as if my life was not complete, there was an empty place in my heart. This man was so emotionally abusive he even told me once that I was not allowed to have a picture of my father in my room. It's not like I wanted a billboard of him in the back yard, I just wanted a reminder of who my father was. Dick even told me, "Your father is dead, I'm your father now." OUCH! How was an 11 year old supposed to handle a comment like that? Food of course. That was the one thing in my life that was always there for me. My mother realized that she was in a bad marriage, but with Dick moving into the house that my mother and father had planned on building before he passed away, she was afraid that he would take the house in the divorce. As the next few years went by I started gaining weight. When they married I was a size 6 with a nice pre-teen figure. By the time I was 14 I weighed almost 200 pounds. I tried to lose weight but every time I lost a few pounds, there was Dick picking me apart little by little saying things like, "If you don't lose more weight you will never have a boyfriend." and "You'd be pretty if you were skinny." So what did I do? Eat everything I could find. When I turned 16, like every teenager, I couldn't wait to get my drivers license. My birthday came and went and Dick finally decided that he needed to discuss the driving issue with me. He took my mother and me to a very popular restaurant for dinner and he proceeded to embarrass me to no end. He finally brought up the topic of driving and I couldn't believe what he said. "You are not going to get your drivers license because your weight affects your driving." What? I did my best to hold back the tears and what I couldn't understand is how can my weight affect my driving but his drinking didn't affect his. Before the meal was over a nice gentleman came over to the table and told Dick that he needed to keep his voice down and to stop embarrassing this pretty young lady. Me, a pretty young lady! Wow did that make my day! Needless to say, I didn't get my drivers license until I was 18 and out of high school, against Dick's wishes, but what could he do. By that time I was 250+ pounds. I was like the snowball rolling down hill, I just kept getting bigger. I thought I would die a single fat old lady, if I was lucky. I never had many friends or dated while in high school because I didn't want people to meet Dick and see the life I really lived. Alone in my room with my cat and all the food I could find. As I went off to college my mother filed for divorce and things just got worse. I worried for her safety and couldn't do anything to control the situation. So I ate. By the time I was out of college I weighed 275 - 280 and felt that my life was going no where. One night in college I even took an entire bottle of pills and washed it down with a bottle of vodka hoping that I wouldn't wake up the next morning. Well, I realized the next morning that I really did have friends. They had made me go to the campus clinic the night before and get my stomach pumped. There were people who cared about me! :o) A few years passed and I met the man of my dreams and to my surprise, he thought I was beautiful (who me?) Size didn't matter to him, I tipped the scales at 300 pounds. Believe it or not we actually met in a grocery store. Go figure, food had to be involved in our meeting. We were married after a 2 year engagement and have now been married for 4 years. Just last year I decided that even though I was happier than I had been in years I needed to do something about my weight. I wanted to live a long and happy life with my husband and I was worried that I would end up with serious medical conditions because of the stress that the weight had put on my body. I decided to have my stomach stapled. My husband was concerned about the procedure and how safe it would be, but if that's what I needed to do, he would stand by me. I had the surgery last April (2000) and can proudly say that I have lost almost 115 pounds. I still have about 40 more to go, but with the support of my husband and my family I will lose the remaining weight in no time. I feel better that I have in years and I can honestly say that I was never really happy until I lost this weight. I know what a sad thing to say, but for me it's true. I love my life and wouldn't change a thing. All of those years of being overweight taught me to be proud of who I am, be confident and most of all be myself. It doesn't matter what strangers think of you, it only matters what you think of yourself. If you have the love of family and friends, you really don't need anything else. I finally have a life that doesn't revolve around food, instead I have a life that revolves around living good active life and love that has no boundaries. I am "Finally Happy!" If my family reads this I just want to say thanks for all of your love and support over the years. And to my husband, Doug, I love you more today than I did yesterday and I will love you more tomorrow than I do today! Thanks for showing me what life really is! Wonderful!!!
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From: Louise
This is my story...
I'm 14 now and STILL overweight! aaaaarrrgggh! My family have always made a big issue out of this. Even when I was really small (like, 3 or 4 years old) I can remember my mum, auntie and grandma looking at me in a swimsuit and saying "Look at the size of her." My mother has never given me sweets or any kind of junk food, even now, because she says I'll put more weight on. When I was younger though she could be really mean, sometimes she just used to say she wasn't making me any lunch/dinner or whatever, because I needed to lose weight so badly, I'd have to start skipping meals. At one point she put me on that diet where you only eat vegetable soup for two weeks, but I was sick after consuming half a bowl, so she said I could stop. When my cousin (who, I might add, is 7 years younger than me) came to visit once, she was going through a stage where she was really fussy about her food. My mum said to me, in front of everyone, at dinner "Why can't you be like Sarah and never eat?" If she ever saw me eat anything she didn't approve of, she would tell me I was an impulsive eater, or whatever it's called. Even now I have to go running in the winter and swimming in the summer, because she makes me. But one day when I'd got really, really sick of her saying all this stuff about my weight, I told her so and she said she'd stop if it bothered me that much but I'd just have to hope to lose it naturally when I'm older. And she's never been really mean again since then.
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From: anonymous
This is my story...
since I can remember I was a chubby child. I could never understand why it was that out of all my 10 cousins I was the overweight one. My family constantly was on my case telling my mother to put me on a diet. I remember visiting my doctor which always insisted on sending me to visit a dietician. it was utter humiliation. It was hard to understand since I was only 8 years old. Ah finally when I hit my teens I joined a gym and I began to lose the weight. I dropped from 160pounds to 120pounds! I managed to keep the weight for about a year. but unfortunately as I visited the gym less I began to gain the pounds. now I am 20 years old and by battle with the bulge continues. its very hard being overweight but its becoming more accepted now! my advice just be happy with yourself. not everybody was born to fit in a size 3!
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From: M-M-
This is my story...
I was a fat kid.... yes and I really hated it when I was a child that the fact I am bigger than most kids in my country. I am an Asian and It's really hard growing up when I was fat. My cousins, aunties, mum's friends... they all called me fat. But they also think I am cute too, they said that I had the face but not the body. And when you are a teen and most guys, I mean Asian guys, they are likely to have slim or thin girlfriends. Then I moved to Australia. In Australia the magazines told us to love ourselves and our bodies because we all have different shapes and sizes. Back in my country, the magazines told us to be "always slim". Last year (when I was 15) I used to starved myself and skipped meals. Now I am a mature 16 and even though I am short and very chubby, I really love my body, and my self... There's nothing wrong of being fat, as long as we are fit and healthy and we have good personalities... people will love you for who you are, not what you are.
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From: Such a Pretty Face
This is my story...
At first I thought I might contribute to the school category. Then I realized that even though the scars I received there have not yet healed (and I am in my 40s), they are in the past...and my family is still very much in the present. I grew up in an extended family, Italian, where food and eating are hugely important. I was of average weight until I had my tonsils out at age 6, and then, I am told, I gained 20 pounds very quickly. (I noticed other people on this site have mentioned weight gain after tonsillectomy...wonder if there's a connection?). Of course, there was the tremendous stress of parents who fought, and an ugly divorce, which probably contributed to my weight gain. When I got fat, there was hand-wringing all around over my size. I don't remember being put on actual diets, but the kinds of food I ate was restricted; we never had "bad" foods in the house (chips, cookies, etc.). However, I remember countless comments, usually made to other relatives, about my weight and how sad it was. I was never taunted, but comments to me were along the lines of "if you could just lose some weight, you could wear such pretty clothes, you wouldn't be made fun of...YOU HAVE SUCH A PRETTY FACE. Every fat girl and woman has heard that one, and cringes every time. I was just tortured at school. My mother didn't know how to deal with it, and I think she was ashamed of the problem. I do not remember receiving a lot of affection or affirmation, since my family was very repressed about expressing these things, and had a generally negative outlook. Of course they loved me, they just weren't very good at showing it in the way that I desperately needed. And then there were the mixed messages, all about food. Eat everything on your plate, even the peas that make you gag. Food as a reward. Food as love. Children are starving in China. You have to eat that because it's good for you. When I was 14, my mother and I went to the family doctor who agreed we could both lose some weight. At that time, I weighed 150 lbs at 5'2". He put both of us on Dexedrine and a diet. This was 1973, and I don't think any doctor would do this now. I dropped 25 lbs so easily. Doctors now just shake their heads when I tell them this...giving speed to a 14-year old!? I was pretty average through high school and college, yo-yoing between 125-150, but always seeing myself as fat, unattractive, and unacceptable. I got down to 114 as a college senior, and felt sexy for the first time. (My diet consisted of yogurt and popcorn, by the way. I was so anemic the doctor debated giving me a blood transfusion, and tested me for leukemia). Once I graduated, I had a tough time surviving financially, and had little direction. I slaved at low-paying jobs and had a hard time adjusting, because I had been a very good student, but now I couldn't seem to succeed. I was gaining weight at this time, and I think that had a negative impact on my job prospects. I had no emotional support from my family because I had left the nest...blasphemous in my close knit Italian family. Many years have passed. I still suffer from weight discrimination, although I have worked myself into a respected job. I have dieted many times, sometimes losing 50 or 60 lbs. Right now I am 265, down from my all-time high of 286. I have accomplished this very slowly, by NOT dieting, but by making a commitment to eating healthier. As my family has aged, food has become even more of an obsession. My mother is a wonderful cook and loves to try new things (so do I). Her invitations always involve meals. When I have a meal at her house, although I am still fat, she urges me constantly to have more. She gives me the bigger cut of meat. She insists that I take leftovers home, even when she knows they are not things I should or want to have in the house. She worries that I don't eat "regular" meals, even though, believe me, I don't look like I've missed a meal in quite some time. My self-image is horrible, and I have been in therapy for a year trying to work out these problems (and others that are related). I go through life in a passive, ghostly way, hoping not to be noticed. I fear the taunts of ignorant, cruel people (I've been humiliated in public, mostly in quiet, subtle ways, but occasionally by loudmouths). I try not to blame my mother. She probably did the best she could with what she had. But I know that my problems stem, in part, from the lack of outward affection, the mixed messages, and the shame of having a fat child. I am still the daughter who "never married," who "lives all alone." Even today, the spin is negative. I wish I could say that I have risen above this. I am trying. My therapy is difficult and draining, but I believe that it will help. I hope to achieve some peace and a better, healthier relationship with food. I hope to repair my self-image and confidence, and believe that I am just as deserving of love and happiness as everyone else. I wish the same to all of you who have contributed your stories here.
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From: Why can't you be thin
This is my story...
My memories as a fat child are just as hard as everyone else's. The only way that I was ever happy was when I was alone in my room, because there no one could torment my soul. The hardest part was the fact that my own family was executioner. I was always compared to my thin brothers and sister, my thin cousins. All I ever heard from my relatives was "WHY CAN'T YOU BE THIN LIKE" and they would go on giving compliments of achievement to all the thin people in my life. I tried many times to loose weight but always got hurt in the process. It seemed that there was no one who would look at me for who I was inside just the tub of lard that I carried on my body. As a result I grew up and became strong, it made me see the world with a different perspective, it's not the outside that matters. What really matters is what is on the inside. I'm grateful that I was strong enough to overcome the loneliness that I suffered as child. All the teasing in school, and at home only made me tough and ready for anything. Now I myself have a fat child, and now that she started school I can only hope that the world will not be as cruel to her as it was to me, but unlike my parents, I will help her and understand her. This is why I write my story, support your children don't let "FAT" overshadow your kids life and their achievements.
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From: Jezzica Rae
This is my story...
when I was about 11, I was teased by friends and family about my weight. I was about 5'3 and I weighed 180 lbs. I thought I was average, just a little chubby. I kept up my eating habits, and by the time I was about 14, I weighed about 210, and 5'6. I knew I needed to lose weight, but I never really thought deeply about it. I started getting stretch marks all over my thighs, and hips, and arms, but I didn't really notice them. My parents and friends nagged more, and the only thing that I could use for comfort was food. I knew it wasn't right and my doctor always told me how to lose weight, I just never bothered to care, and just ate more. Clothes were getting harder and harder to find in my size, and jeans definitely weren't in the picture. So I was teased more about my "fashion style" My sophomore year in high school, I was at my peak in weight, weighing about 250 or more lbs. I knew things had to be done, so every morning, and night I would run (or rather walk/jog) about 2 miles. I now am a senior in high school, and I have lost 40 lbs, and hope for about 50 more.
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From: Melanie
This is my story...
I wasn't always fat. I have the photos to prove it. Prior to starting school, I was a petite child - possibly even underweight. I don't really remember being that thin child. I don't remember going from thin to fat. My awareness of my body began when the children in kindergarten began to call me names like 'fatty boom-sticks'. At that stage, I knew I didn't like being teased and called names, but I hadn't learned to hate myself. That came later. By primary school, I was well and truly aware that I was fat, and that I was, therefore, unacceptable. I had to get the skirt of my school uniform specially made, as the stores didn't stock my size. I wasn't even that big. By the time I was 10 or 11 years old, well meaning friends of my mother suggested that she put me on a diet, so she took me to a nutritionist. Thus began the daily misery of deprivation. I learned that food was 'bad'. I learned that I was 'bad' for wanting to eat, for needing to eat. Perhaps that isn't what the nutritionist and my mother intended, but that was what I learned. I began to skip breakfast and threw my lunch in the bin uneaten (since food was the issue, I was afraid to let people see me eat). By the afternoon, I would be ravenous, but wasn't allowed to snack (since my mother assumed I had eaten well during the day). I remember snitching chicken noodle soup packets from the cupboard, and eating them dry because I was so hungry. My dinner would be restricted to a small, hungry-making size as well. My days were marked by deprivation and hunger. Still I was fat. By the time of our Primary School graduation, I was bulging out of my school uniform. I came Dux of the School (ie. what is known as valedictorian in the US ), but that meant nothing to me. I remember hearing my mother on the phone to one of her friends, bragging about her brainy daughter. Understandable, right? But I started screaming at her: "Coming first in my class is nothing-- it was easy. Why can't you praise me about something that was hard, that was an achievement? Like that I've lost weight recently - can't you see that my skirt is looser? " Talk about screwed up priorities. As I entered high school, I was a mess. I became very withdrawn. I couldn't believe that people, especially boys, could like me. If a boy let me know that he wanted to go out with him, I thought he was having a go at me, and would go back to his friends laughing that I actually thought that he wanted to go out with ME. I rejected them before they rejected me. PE at school was hell. I remember one teacher in particular singling me out to do more laps because I hadn't come in fast enough. I was too fat for her liking. She would do anything she could to make PE hell for me. Oh, I am sure that she thought she was doing the right thing, helping me lose weight, but she was pushing me way beyond my physical capabilities, and all she did was embed a loathing for exercise in my mind. By 15, I had starved, dieted, pummeled and exercised myself to the smallest I ever was (size 12 Australian, which is smaller that the US sizing). But that still wasn't good enough for me, or for those around me. I saw myself as HUGE, elephantine, ugly, hopeless. I felt that I was a failure, because I hadn't attained the magical goal weight that the charts said I should be. Oh, I had lost weight....heaps of it....but it wasn't enough. My perceived lack of success was rubbed in by my stepfather, who bought me a T-shirt that said " I try to lose weight, but it keeps finding me", in puffy fat lettering. He would also say things to me like "you will never be Twiggy". I felt that he was telling me that I wasn't attractive and never would be. The crazy thing is that when I look back on photos from that time, I see a very pretty average sized girl - not fat. At least not as fat as I thought I was. My entire self esteem depended on my weight. It took me a long time before I found myself, and learned to accept myself in my body as it is now. I like my curves. I like the way my belly and butt are rounded and soft. Dieting to me is a four letter word (which is not to say that I don't eat healthily). Please if you have a fat child, be very careful and sensitive about the messages you give him/her. Try to give positive messages to your child - that s/he is loved as s/he is. Try not to embed the FOOD = BAD, YOU EAT, THERFORE YOU = BAD equation. It will do more harm than good.
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From: Amanda
This is my story...
I, 34, myself was overweight -- still am by 25lb., but my daughter age 10 @ 245lb.is very bad overweight. I try to help her; she wants to lose weight. We just can't find anything that works. The kids @ school are sometimes very mean and family sometimes say things. We need help; to help her . If anyone who read this knows anything that will help please let us know.
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From: kixx
This is my story...
I'm 12 years old right now and I am currently over weight. Some of my best friends are too. I love shopping with them. But when I have to go shopping with my mom I hate it. that means ill have to go try on pair after pair after pair of pants until we find a big enough pair. I'm 12 and already I weigh 158.5 pounds sad huh? My friends and I came from "Fat families" now my mom weighs about as I do and she's 42. :(
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From: April
This is my story...
As a child, I used to lay awake at night and fantasize about what it would be like to be skinny. I remember being made fun of by the boys at school for my weight and my mother and grandmother trying to "help" me lose weight. My grandmother was (and still is) always making degrading remarks about my weight, like "No one in our family has ever been as big as you are." She does this even though she is very obese as well and has been as long as I can remember. Like others on this site, when I look back at pictures, I see a healthy girl-child, maybe slightly more chubby than her friends, but not as fat as I always felt I was. The constant pressure to lose weight from my family finally gave way to me just plain starving myself as a teenager, (no breakfast, a glass of tea for lunch, salad or popcorn for supper.) I can remember being so weak one morning after not eating anything for about 3 days, that I couldn't even stand up when I got out of bed. I crawled into the kitchen and ate a couple of cookies, then crawled to the bathroom after I felt stronger and could stand and weighed myself. 103lbs. That is the least I have weighed since then, when I was 13 years old. I also took "speed" on and off for a while, when I could get my hands on it, which really wasn't hard, due to where I lived (not a good place) and who my step-family was (druggies, to put it nicely.) Today, I am 5 foot, two inches, and weigh 205lbs. The biggest I have been is 235 lbs., right after having my youngest child, who is 7 years old. I can eat whatever I want now, for the most part, and I still weigh the same, and have for about 6 years. I am through with yo-yo dieting, as I know the results don't last, and feel that if I had not done so much of it when I was young, I might not even be this big now, since the more you do "fad" diets, the more muscle mass you lose and then the weight comes back quicker and more of it. The problem is, now my youngest daughter, (who looks just like her mother), is talking about how fat she is and how all of her friends are skinny. It hurts deep inside to hear her talk this way, as I know exactly how she feels, but don't know what to do about it. I just keep telling her that she is a very strong girl, with great muscles, who can do cool things like backbends and walkovers (which she learned in gymnastics), and things like that, but it doesn't seem to help, because she still says that she's fat and ugly. My plan, (especially after reading these messages,) is to continue to tell her how great she is, to continue to help her find activities that she enjoys (like her acrobatics) and continue to emphasize how strong her body is and what amazing things it can do. I hope that one day, she will grow up to be an adult who has learned to value herself for being more than a "waif wanna-be", and for being the intelligent, beautiful, strong woman I know she will become. (Maybe I should start by learning to do this myself, eh?)
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
When I was around 5 I think my family was outside on the porch around 3:00 and I was hungry so I went inside and got a piece of bread. I came outside and my parents told me in front of my brothers that from now on I had to ask to get food. I know it's not a big deal at all..but my appetite suddenly disappeared and I felt sickly fat (at 5 years old!!) from that day on I've been obsessed w/ weight. I've been dieting since kindergarten. I am now a freshman in high school and am 5'3 and 85 pounds. I weigh myself around 10-15 times a day and am actually feeling fat at this moment. Strange how one comment can change everything....
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From: Kari
This is my story...
I'm 14 now and a bitter-sweet happiness is finally right around the corner. I can't even say "It all started..." Because it's always been. I've always been the chubby one. My childhood idol was my friend from 1st to 4th grade, she was toothpick thin, and though she only brought up my weight once, she never ever cared if I was fat. My mum never cared, but my father. He was Mr. Health Guy. She always hinted to me that I was chubby, never outright saying it, but those hints hurt. Like, when I was in Gymnastics, I came home and was going to make two corndogs and he said that if I wanted to do better on the bars (In gymnastics) that I should eat less. All my life, I just wanted to be thin, that's all. Shopping was a nightmare, I hated it! At 10, I still hated my weight, but at least I wore what I wanted, not what I looked thinner in. At 12-13, I was 4'11 and 140 lbs. I snapped and starved myself. Got to 133 and stayed there for a while. Then went to a horse show, a girl I, even now, fantasize over being, was there. She's thin and pretty and I was miserable, none of the cloths I brought did I like, my dad told me not to eat too much strawberry shortcake, and, well, my period started, so I really didn't want to ride my horse. When I got home, I starved myself more. Doing this thing I call "Diet week." Starve a week, eat a week...I am now down to 115 (5'0)I'm not scared of weight as much, but I'm semi-satisfied, and trying out for 2002 rodeo queen with confidence. I've always wanted to be an actress and that's finally a possibility. Now, for the BITTER-sweet part of this. I'm still starving, I will NEVER be happy with my weight. My ultimate goal is 95. Though I don't know if I'll get past 105. Don't get me wrong, this is the best thing I've ever done in my entire life and I LOVE my dad with all my heart, he's not the reason for this. It's me. I judged myself too hard, I'm only 14 and I've never really been happy cause anything I like somehow is ruined by me thinking about how fat I am. Please, TO PARENTS EVERYWHERE, if you have a child under 5 who might be showing signs of over-weightiness. Don't bring the subject up, but please please please don't let her turn out like me. Don't let your children get fat or I assure you, they will not be as happy as they can be. I'm slowly learning to love my body, but will I ever be finished?
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
As a kid my sister and my mom and dad were the ones who bothered me most about my weight. Once when my sister and me were going to bed, (I sleep on the top cause we had a bunk bed) she always said "hey the boards are bending!" and I said, "oh what am I supposed to do?" then she said "well you could gain less weight fatty!"
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From: Anna
This is my story...
When I was in the ninth grade I decided to go out for track in hopes of shedding some excess weight. I signed up for the grueling two-mile, and despite weeks of practice, my first race was a disaster. I was lapped by the winner and finished more than a minute behind the second-to-last runner. I will never forget what my mother told me on the way home from the meet. She suggested I pick a sprint instead so I "wouldn't hold up the track meet again" and so "people wouldn't have to watch me run like that." Although now I have dropped seven sizes and wear size 7 jeans, I still feel like that fat, slow girl who was an embarrassment to her track team.
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From: Diana
This is my story...
Hi, my name is Diana and I am 130lbs. I hate being this way and I know I'm fat and ugly. When I was younger ppl use to call me fatty but they don't anymore cause I guess they've became nice. I'm so fat I can't even do a summersault. my dad always says to me that I need to lose weight and he says this summer he's only gonna buy fruit cause he thinks I'm so big. its so embarrassing being this way cause my sister Victoria is 20 and she weighs 105lbs. I hate being this way and if anyone knows how I could maybe lose some weight please email me. Thank you for taking the time to read my story. :) Diana
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From: wanting to be skinny
This is my story...
After gaining about 80 lbs due to pregnancy we were at a Christmas dinner, when my oldest brother looked at me and Moooooed like a cow . I was so hurt I cried by myself for weeks. Always remember who and how you can hurt someone just by sound or jestures be kind we're only here on Earth for a short time and you have no right to judge anyone. Love the neighbor but most of all be kind to all. Thank you for reading this.
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From: Used to be fat
This is my story...
I started gaining weight in third grade. My family pressured me all the time through out my childhood. I had always been the 'bigger' friend. Then, all the pressure collided on me at once, and I became anorexic and lost forty pounds, bringing me down to 110 pounds. I gained back to 125, but I'm 5' 7" now, and I grew out of it. But, all I know is my problems always started with my family.
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From: filmguyfa
This is my story...
Three vignettes My childhood memories are spotty and random, for the most part. I'm terrible with dates- but images stick out in my mind. Here are a few: The first time I really felt low and unaccepted for being a fat kid took place in my bedroom. I had just returned from summer camp and my dad was doing some laundry. "Hey, look at this!", said my dad from the other room. He came in wearing a pair of shorts with my camp's logo on them. "I can fit into YOUR pants now!" I was shocked. He looked like a moron, but his message was clear. I remember thinking, "Aren't you supposed to be like, on MY side?", or something like that. Maybe I was ten years old. Another instance took place around that time. There was a girl in the neighborhood that had had a huge crush on me when we were both about seven years old. She used to sneak me into her bedroom and we'd hide UNDER her canopy bed. Then she'd give me all these little kisses all over my face. It was kind of fun, but I was too young to really be that into it. Yes, girls mature faster. Since that time I had put on weight. I was walking through the neighborhood and I passed "Becky" and her friend. I heard her whisper something to her friend. Then she said something to me, kind of insulting, don't rememeber what. "Didn't you use to like me?", I said. "Yeah, that was before you got FAT!". Ugh, kids. The final image exists only in a photograph. In the picture, I was 13 and going to camp again. I'm standing in front of my dad's car with my shirt held up so you can see my stomach. I still don't remember it being taken. But I'm pretty sure my father was planning it for a "before and after" picture showing how I'd lost weight at camp. This picture is actually in the scrapbook at my father's house. I think next time I visit, I'll put it on the fridge or something!
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From: Polka Dots
This is my story...
My compulsive overeating began in early childhood. My Parents weren't happy. My Father worked away and when he was around, he was physically abusive to my Mother. It was the Seventies... My Mother was either too afraid to leave my Dad, or too afraid to be alone in the world. I loved my Dad... I was Daddy's little girl who didn't quite understand that my Mother was being hit by the idol Father whom I loved. My Mother began to resent me. She was chubby, My Mother's Sister was chubby. I ate my little heart out. Sometimes we didn't have enough on the table. I would eat my lunch on the bus ride to school, and then starve the rest of the day. After school I would eat whatever I could find. I began to gain weight. I became the Fat chubby kid who looked different from everybody else. The kids at school never let me live it down. But I wasn't going to give in to their shallow little minds. I was a good girl, who cared if I was fat? (My Mother) My Mother took me and my brothers Swimming at a public school pool. My Mother sat on the bleachers on the other side of the glass. She sat there with other people, while I happily swam in the pool. I did swan dives off of the diving board. It was such a great night! On the way home, my Mother told me that as she was sitting there on the bleachers she listened to teen aged boys point me out and verbally make fun of me. They thought that the Fat girl in the polka dotted swimsuit was hilarious. She wanted me to know that she felt embarrassed, and that she wanted me to seriously consider losing weight. I never told my Mother that she hurt me, more than she could have ever understood. I was her thirteen year old "Chubby" daughter... and she just sat there and let those boys verbally make fun of me in front of her. She didn't stand up for me, she didn't acknowledge that she was my Mother. She didn't say a word. She just sat there. I felt sorry for myself that night. Sorry that I didn't have a Mother that would defend me. I felt more sorry for her though, because even though I would soon forgive her... I would never forget. I never have. I grew bigger through the years... and after high school I ballooned well over 200-250 lbs... I now am over 300lbs. No, it's not my Mother's fault. But I don't have a strong relationship with her, or my Dad... or my Brothers. I'm the Fat Girl... yes, it's true. But this is something that life has to accept. I am beautiful and a very kind hearted and caring individual. And I still long for A Mother's unconditional love. ~Polka Dots
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From: All This Pressure
This is my story...
MY MOTHER IS ALWAYS PUTTING SO MUCH PRESSURE ON ME ABOUT MY WEIGHT BUT WHAT SHE DOESN'T NOTICE IS THAT THE MORE SHE HURTS MY FEELINGS THE MORE I GAIN WEIGHT. I JUST WANT TO BE A SIZE 10 I'M A SIZE 16-18 IT WOULD MAKE MY LIFE SO MUCH EASIER.
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From: Sara Jane
This is my story...
I have been chubby for as long as I can remember. I have pictures of me and my identical twin from when we were little babies and we were fat little babies! We sure were cute though.. I grew up with my twin and a few older siblings. We I was the only real chubby one, and I hated it. I got into sports like swimming, diving, biking and soccer when I was in about 6th-8th grade and I lost a lot of weight. I was so thin! I didn't even realize it though. When I look at pictures of me at the pool from my freshman year of high school, I am shocked. You can see the bones in my legs, my totally flat stomach and my thin little arms. How did I think I was fat then?? Now here I am, 24 years old, 5'3" tall and a horrible 170 pounds. I look in the mirror every day and cry. My older sister is gorgeous. She modeled for Abercrombie and Fitch while in college..that is how pretty and perfect she is. She supports me, and knows I am fat, and tells me all the time that she will exercise with me. It is so hard though. I hate it so much. I am not sure if my weight problem is because of the physical and mental abuse I had as a child, or the fact that I was denied things I wanted. I was allowed one Mt. Dew a day growing up. I would try to sneak some in from out of the house, because it was "Bad" for me. I used to nurse a single can all day long in my bedroom. It was such a simple pleasure, but it meant a lot to me know. I don't know why exactly I am so fat, but I want to lose it. I am tired of the back aches. (I kneel in front of my desk at work sometimes instead of sitting in a chair because my tummy is so large and it hurts.) I am tired of sucking in my stomach to fit into a pair of jeans. I want to wear sexy nighties for my husband without turning red in the face. I want somebody to look at my face when I speak instead of my stomach. I dream for the day that somebody will accept me for who I am, whether I am fat or not.
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From: Alison
This is my story...
I remember being a "normal" sized little girl. I was in gymnastics and other kinds of dance and as I grew a little bit older I remember slowly growing into becoming the largest girl in my dance classes. I was eventually steered away from ballet and gymnastics and placed into jazz classes, where I was picked to play the lion in our production of The Wizard of Oz. I eventually quit when the humiliation and snickering got too intense. I started playing softball at age 10. The coaches would only put me in the outfield because I "didn't have enough speed" to be in the infield, even though I practised constantly to get better. I was called names, poked at, and eventually quit that as well. I became totally inactive and alienated from my body and am still fighting to this day the urge to forget that I live inside my physical body. In the seventh grade, my weight was about 160 at 5'3''. I was constantly ridiculed and the names were thrown at me every day. Two of my friends were about the same size and we bonded in our strength in numbers. We started a guitar band and the kids called us "the orchas" and pushed us down in the hallways. We survived it together and I thank God for them to this day for being there for me to talk me out of my suicidal thoughts, as I also did for them. My mother meant well but she would tell me that I wasn't aloud to eat anything except at mealtime and she would pack my lunch for school with celery and carrots only. If she would catch me sneak a snack she would make remarks in like "Do you want to be fat?!" I eventually turned to hate and pain after being such a happy child. I cried every day, cut myself constantly, began writing dark poetry and withdrawing from family and school. When I got to high school I even took up cocaine because I'd heard it would make me thinner. I eventually stopped eating and would do aerobic tapes over and over again every night before bed until I would pass out on the floor and sleep there all night. This was intentional- I would set my alarm clock for school the next morning before starting the tape. I lost 35 pounds in 3 months this way and was told over and over how great I looked by my friends and classmates and especially my mom. "Keep it up!" I heard again and again as a reminder that I was still not thin enough and that if I ever stopped this pattern I would fall back into the fat. Eventually, I gave up, gained the weight back and learned to live with myself. I went up to 180 pounds by the end of last year (my third year in college) and lost 20 naturally (WITHOUT DIETING) after moving to a city a few months ago and changing into a busy lifestyle. I am again at the weight I hated so much in high school but this time I think I'm just fine. I am still sensitive and feel self conscious and second-best at times but I honestly love myself and my body. I began to do martial arts and even dance again recently- even with a big belly. I actually used it to my advantage last year in a belly dancing course. I'm working this summer with kids and even leading positive body image discussions but I always feel that twinge of self-doubt before I fight it off. It's been a constant struggle but I am currently winning.
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From: Depressed1
This is my story...
This is my story.......I am a 12-yr-old, 170Ilb somethin girl.I've hated my weight.....since i can remember.My family wasn't and still isn't a big help at all. My brothers would always call me names like fatso and my sister,each time we got in a fight she would say "atleast i'm not the one who weighs more than her mom and sister."That hurt so much to hear. Everyone teased my weight.I didn't like myself or my weight. Everytime someone would say I needed to loose weight they said I'm just trying to help you, and they really weren't. They just criticized me.Once in 5th grade(now I'm a rising 7th grader)my teacher was talking about depression and stuff like that and she said most people who eat a lot are likely the ones to be lonely. SO there I guessed was my answer of why I was so fat, it was b-cuz i was lonely, it kind of made sense except for the fact that I had two younger bros. and 1older sister, but like I told you, they're not a big help.I sometimes regret being born and wishing I had a different family. Everytime I went out w/ my mom,and her friends and my sister all my moms' friends would say to my sister "o my god you lost so much weight,how do u do it?"They say it right in front of me and just look at me in disgust. I feel my parents regret and are disgusted of having a over-weight child.NO guys have liked me because of how big i am and the fact that i'm muslim.That just shows how rasist SOME people can be, others are like family.Except mine. If you have any information for me of how to lose weight.....please tell me!Thank you for reading my story.
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From: Pebbles
This is my story...
Right now, if I was to say what I think was the thing I heard the most when I was young is "You've got a beautiful face but you have to lose wieght." I was told this my mother about once a week, by my aunt about every weekend, by my father at every deep disscusion we had and by close family friends at every social gathering.I began gaining wieght when I was allowed to select what I wanted to eat, when my mother "loosened the reins". I overate to say the least. By the time I was in fifth grade, I hated my self and the skinny girls who flaunted everything. Most of all, I hated my family life. At home, there was always some ultimately unsuccessful diet. From Wieght Watchers (which I quit by convincing my mother to skip meets escalating to stopping altoghther) to strict meal restrictions. The most painful one was when my mother and I walked from our apartment home to my aunt's about a mile away. I detested that walk, showing off my wieght while watching people comfortably drive in their cars with air conditioning and radio while I trudged along in the South Floridian heat, making forced conversion with my mother. And my God, the pain. My back ached, my feet got blisters, the back of my legs burned and the air polluted by car exhaust caused headaches. Then, on the following Monday, after about a week of this terrible procedure, my mother summoned me onto the scale. After just a week of painfull walking and heavy meal regulation, I lost five pounds. I remember that as one of the happiest moments of my childhood life. The happiest was when I realized that I wasn't only a fat person. I was smart, a good friend and daughter, an espiring writer and a thoughtful person. Being fat was only one part of myself and if there was one bad part, there were thirty other good things.
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From: Nomad Soul
This is my story...
My story is going to be somewhat different compared to most here. I'm now 19, and have between a slender to average build. However, between the ages of 9 to 15 I was chubby, at one point a fat kid. I never topped any scales though, the heaviest I ever weighed was about 195 lbs at 13. Its very odd, my father's side of the family, well, just my father anyways, had a similar problem. We both began as very thin children, however as puberty begins to set in it seems one of our changes is we gain weight out of nowhere. However I gained extra weight during this time because this was a difficult time for me. My parents had serious financial problems, which took their toll. We had to move many times. I've never once in my life ever lived in a place for more than 2 to 3 years, so I've never had a chance to really settle down, and at one point I became completely enclosed to all others at school. That, and I could sense the apathy within the household often, as my mother and step father went into a deep depression due to their financial failure (which for their sakes I'll keep under wraps). But I love my family, deep down even in my closed off time I still did feverishly. They never have once made fun of me for my weight. My mother would sometimes poke a harmless joke at it, but it was mostly playful stuff that never hurt, I did the same to her often, but never anything traumatizing (looking at how big I was, I can never find the right words to describe my gratitude to them for that) Instead, they offered a much more logical and open minded view of it, they viewed it in a realistic unbiased way. What I mean is that well, my family (both sides) have always had a unique stature, we're an artsy family. ;) All of us believe that the concept of human beauty has been somewhat warped my today's media. While thin people can be beautiful in any form, they can also be ugly. Chubby and fat people can be beautiful as well, but can also be ugly. Its all a matter of perspective, I bet tons of so called "anti-fat" people have a secret admiration for them, but are a afraid to show it due to social pressures. Cowardice, plain and simple. At one point, my parents, although still burdened (though with my father's help over in Japan, they had an even better start), we have a concept that there's no point in toiling and indulging in misery and pessimisim (well, unless you actually like to). Whats the point? So they carried on, a little earlier I did the same. At school, I decided I wanted to get to know people, to make an impression. So I started with one, and through this time I went through so many changes, changes that haven't stopped until last summer. During the first months my natural chub completely dissapeared, just like my father. I had some left over fat still, but neither my mother, step father, or my father ever through negative commentary about it. Instead, they just said that if you want to lose it, just do it. If you don't, or can't, then what does it matter? Just do what you feel is right. I completely forgot about the chub for a while, and naturally took up a love of running and martial arts. Within 3 months, I am as I am now. But I can so see that if I was pressured even more, the battle would have either been much harder, or I'd be heavy still. The point to all this? I felt I was the ugliest thing on earth during this time, and I got my share of "fat ass" and "buhdda boy". But while the world would do whatever, my family supported me with a clear view of myself. They reminded me that I have an artistic gift and am very sharp and optimistic. And chubby guys can be cute in a different way than thin guys, but essentially the idea is the same. But at the same time, they kept it open, by saying the dangers of getting too big, and letting it warp my mind. Essentially, all it is is oil in you're skin, thats it. It can't decide the kind of things you're capable of, only you can do that. Despite hard times, they gave me an irreplacable gift in that while the world may riticule me if I am to be a chubby kid, I was one of them, and wouldn't be treated any different. This put a realistic optimism in my mind that helps me to realize that you can be optimistic and adventurous, while still knowing the dangers and pain that may lie ahead. If I stayed fat, my mind set wouldn't be any different. Remember this with you're children, if you're afraid of them becoming obese or fat, or chubby. Sometimes its natural, sometimes its not. You're job is too keep them safe and strengthen their minds. No matter what variation I'm positive you're child will come out with a powerful heart. Beauty can come in so many different ways, we all deep down know this, however society today is very narrow viewed about that, and only the most daring step out of that. It shouldn't be that way, and I think it could definitely change. But no matter how tolerant society becomes or not, there will always be someone who will riticule you. However, its in the same vein as someone insulting you for you're religion, or you're race, or your attitude. They do it just because it impulses them. Try to change that if you can, if not, then if you know in you're heart that you're a great person, fat or not, then thats all you need. That alone could change people in itself. Remember, plain can be pretty, round can be pretty too. Its all about finding the true perspective of things. This is what my family taught me, my cousin who is 246 lbs at 17 knows this through me as well, and knows this too. When you know this, people will for some reason acknowledge you even if they don't have a high opinion of fat. Thats because he proved himself a worthy person to know, as himself. In the end, while society, ignorant people, and plain idiots may riticule it, through all of that bull it really doesn't matter what you look like as long as you project something from yourself that inspires others, and its not usually solid. Life is so open, there's so many right ways to view things, others, and yourself, you'll know when you truly come to it. Yeah, I talk alot. ^^; Its mostly just ideals, but my family instilled this sense of openess in me. Parents, grand parents, and any family have so much more power over the future than they tend to know. Even if you come from a broken family, keep this in mind and hold on to it when your time comes.
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From: southerngirl
This is my story...
Here's my story. About age 4, my parents divorced, and I went to live with my grandparents, mother visited occasionally. We are from the south, and my grandmother cooked "southern". I was fed everything from ketchup & mayo sandwiches to sticks of butter. It's what I had learned to eat. I gained weighed quickly. I remember being around 10 years old, playing softball. I knew I was a little heavier than some, but it took seeing the team picture that I realized I was the largest. Weighing about 150 lbs. when I was around 10. But before that, my Dad remarried and my step mother became obsessed with my weight, making it so much more obvious to me. My brother took after my mom, petite, thin no matter what he ate. Me, tall, "big-boned", big appetite. Funny thing, before my weight bothered everyone else, it never bothered me so much. I was very active, but became less active because of depression. I remember so many times, not being able to have a slice of a birthday cake, or having my meals portioned. On the other hand though, I wasn't able to leave the table unless my plate was cleaned. That still baffles me as an adult. I had to eat exactly what I was given, when I was given it, but then was critisized. My Dad and I are so much alike. Tall, big framed, big appetite, he never complained about my weight. When my preteen years came, I was diagnosed with scoliosis and had to wear a back brace. The brace was so tight, I couldn't eat very much. I lost so much weight I looked anorexic. I was told that too. All the time, "you look awful", "you should eat something, you're as skinny as a rail". I battled depression off and on through high school. Gained weight depending on the situation. My looks were always such an importance in my life. If I had gained weight, I was unhappy & depressed. If I lost weight, I was praised & loved more. I learned that love was not unconditional. I believe now, as an overweight adult, that I became a topic to discuss. My weight was in every conversation, every holiday meal, every gathering. Getting dressed in the morning wasn't about fashion, or what looked nice, it was about concealing. Growing up feeling you have to conceal your body is an awful thing to go through. Feeling like your personality was never important, your life events weren't important, only your weight loss or gain. I have being very overweight as a child & adult, and I've also been very thin. I know now that being healthy is important. But I can honestly say that it doesn't matter whether I am thin or fat, my weight will ALWAYS be an issue to my family, and to me. I am 28 years old now, happily married with two children. My husband and I are both overweight, my children are not. I have moved a good distance from my family, and each time I visit them, I feel like I'm being examined, disected. This past Thanksgiving, while standing in line for dinner, I was asked my an aunt, "how much weight have you lost?" It's funny too, everyone wants to discuss with me their weight problems. I still have the desire, as an adult, to lose a lot of weight, and be able to say to them, "look at me now". But I know that isn't the reason to lose the weight. I am facing problems with depression as an adult because of my weight history. Society has made thin beautiful. My 8 year old daughter sees that. My husband sees it too. He's so sweet though, he tells me I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. He says he doesn't see the fat. It even bothers me for us to go sometimes, to eat, to the mall, or to the beach. I know that most places I go, I will be one of the heaviest women there. Thin people stand out so much more to me than they should. I wish I could go back to when I was younger, knowing what I know now. It's funny, I was always told as a child, "learn from your mistakes". The way it should have been told to me, "learn from our mistakes". Thank you for all who listened, and for all who shared. God Bless.
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From: Noelle
This is my story...
I haven't always been a fat kid. I was pretty skinny until puberty hit me and then I started gaining weight. I'm a natural athelete and was involved in several sports, just as the fat girl. I was in track, basketball, volleyball, golf, etc, but I never could lose the weight. My mother (also a large person) would always tell me that if I just didn't eat as much that I'd be fine. Ha! I only eat 1500 calories a day and I jog 30 minutes everyday just because I enjoy jogging. I'm now 5'4, 190 lbs, 19 years old and can outrun, outhit, out play and out perform most of the "skinny" girls out there. So maybe I can't wear Abercrombie and Finch...so what?! Anywho, my mother has always bothered me about my weight. She even went to far as to encourage me to become anorexic for a while so that I could lose the weight and then I'd be able to keep it at that (my weight is extremely stable). So I tried it, you know, make Mommy happy, and I did lose 40 lbs, but gained it back due to being extremly depressed for about 2 years. Now I'm back, kicking butt, and laughing at my mother because I have a wonderful boyfriend who loves me and could care less about my dress size!
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From: BIG BUT BEAUTIFUL
This is my story...
Well I come from a Greek family of five girls. In our younger days we were all plump children that always loved to finish off moms cooking; or was it we were forced too? I remember all my other cousins, the kids at school being smaller, and more athletic than I was. My mom began when I was little trying to put me on diets to lose weight. I can remember all the names I was called and how I wasn't as active as I know I could of been because of me being a fat child. There were times where my parents would talk to other parents about me, and I always remember them saying "Don't worry, it is only baby-fat she'll grow out of it"! Little did they know, I didn't. Now, that I am 18, my mom continues to strive for me to be thin. I do not want to be thin, I just want to be happy. I know that the person I am right now is amazing, although I could better myself by losing a few pounds. I always question my self "Am I going to be the same person I am after I lose weight?" While I see others who have gone through changes and not only change their body, they change their personality which isn't pretty. My mom doesn't reliaze that the more she pressures me into lossing weight, the fatter I feel. I go out and get dressed up as thin people do. I get asked out, complimented, and loved. Why is it so hard to understand that being fat isn't as bad as people put it? I feel that I have accomplished a lot within my life even at the age of 18, and I am content with myself. I know that one day in the near future I'll start taking better care of myself and get fit. However, everyone needs to know that people live their own lives for a reason. Not to make others happy, not to impress the world with what they've got, but to accomplish a task that they are here for to complete. I know my mom does it out love, but when your a kid and you get pressured and outcasted so quick, it leaves a scar with you forever. I hope that teens that feel the same way as I do, understand that God gave us what we have for a reason, and God gives all of us a challenge that we can handle and get through.
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From: Lia
This is my story...
I'm 5'0" and 105 pounds. I've never been much skinnier or much fatter. Medically, I'm not considered overweight. You may not think I know what it’s like to be overweight. But I know what it’s like to be called “fat, fathead, lardbutt, fat pig, etc.” My brother, who has always been underweight, always makes fun of my weight. He’s convinced that I am an obese pig, and he’s starting to convince me, too. He always says that I’m so disgusting I deserve to die. He says I don’t have any friends because I’m so fat and revolting and people want to kill me and so on. When my underweight cousin came to visit me for the summer, he started making fun of me, too. My cousin, this perfect stranger whom I had never met before in m life, was calling me fat. It wasn’t just a kid, like my brother, making fun of me either. This cousin was thirty years old. I told my dad to make him stop, but it didn’t stop. I was tortured all summer. At that time, I was about 110 pounds. Still not overweight medically, but enough to be called fat. No one made fun of me at school, but the torment I received at home was enough to make up for it. My mother, while she never actually made fun of me or anything, always encouraged me to lose weight instead of helping me feel better about myself. After that, I started to diet. I got on this diet roller coaster that I can’t seem to get off of. Dieting is always on my mind. All I ever think about is food and exercise. I’ve been as low as 96 and as high as 112. My weight is constantly going up and down, which can’t be good for my body. Everything reminds me that I’m too fat, and food mocks me. I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare. And my brother still calls me fat.
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From: Stephanie
This is my story...
I was never fat as a child. I was not always very skinny though. I have pictures of myself at around 7 or 8 at Disney World and I am amazed at how skinny I look. But ever since I was little I loved to eat and my parent's called me the buddah belly when I was little because my belly was somewhat big. I have no recolection of this except from what I've heard. I've always been a normal sized child and I see that now, but from the time I was about 11 or 12 I've seen myself as fat. There were skinny skinny people in my class whom I wanted to be like. Then one day at a pool party at my aunts house my dad commented that I was getting a bit of a belly. A harmless, perceivably helpful comment, but from that moment on I learned to be disgusted with myself. Even before that I would go on silly diets all the time. My mom and my two aunts were always going on diets and I emulated their behavior. I was not fat, I was not even overweight, I was perfectly normal. But I loathed my body. I started running track in the 8th grade and my body went from normal to slim. After track I gained back the 5 or 10 pounds I had lost and hated myself again. I began to skip meals alot and eat less and less. That wasn't a bad thing until I went too far with it. You see I've alwasy been an extreme person and I never do anything in moderation. I went on fasts and crazy calorie restricting diets where I would sometimes go on only 200 calories a day and then eat nothing the next day. It wasn't healthy and I dropped down from 105 to about 90 pounds in less then 2 weeks. I finally got so weak I couldn't stand because I would get dizzy and light-headed and it scared me so I quit it. Still to this day I'm a calorie counter and I'll go from eating what I want one week to eating bread and water the next. I don't know if I could be clinically classified as anorexic, but I know that this psychological inferiority complex will probably always be with me. Please, don't tell you're children that they're fat. Tell them they're beautiful amd strong. Build they're self-confidence instead of smashing it because anorexia is just as deadly as obesity.
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From: Scotianygirl23
This is my story...
This is actually a poem that I wrote for my father, describing the way he made me fell as an overweight child. If you have any comments, please feel free to look me up on aol im or yahoo under Scotianygirl23 Father The person you see is different from the person inside. The outside is a front hiding all of the pain and anger. As I say I love you to cover up all the years of mental torture. You don’t recall the things you had said and did; your alcohol abuse helped you not to remember. The hurt, the pain, the ugly person I once saw I see again. The nightmares of the verbal torture that dance and scream in my sleep. The anger and hatred that I hold inside my heart, my soul, and my memory. The rage that swells up inside of me yearning to unleash itself on you, to tell you the three words its been longing to say forever “I hate you”. To let the truth come out and introduce itself to you, to let you feel the verbal torture that you put me through. 19yrs later you would expect it to have gone away, but it’s back and eating at my soul. When I tell you I love you, I can feel my stomach knot as I push back the real way I feel for you. Those days when you came to me just to let me know how fat I was, how I would try to wrap myself into a little ball so you couldn’t see me. How every time you raise your voice I wonder if you are going to come after me with insults. Now when you yell at me I have this feeling in my heart of wanting not to hide myself but of wanting to hit you, to yell at you, to tell you I hate you. I wait that one-day you will decide to leave and never look back. Every night I wish upon a star hoping that bright delicate star in the sky will make everything better. The couple of years or months throughout these 19yrs that were actually good will never make-up for those years of pain that I and my mother have suffered through with you being so close. At night I try and dream the happiest dream. A life without the evilness of you…your demon within drifting away. Wondering if this dream of pure bliss will ever be fulfilled. No one knows the pain I am feeling inside, the pain that has and is eating at the insides of my soul. If I were allowed to tell you one thing, one thing without being punished for it, I would tell you how I have been feeling for the past 19yrs. The one way that my life has been tortured. I hate you, hate you for all the pain, all the anguish, and all of the bad memories I have of my childhood. These are the last words I would ever say to you if I could.
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From: osaggie
This is my story...
Why do I have to be The One?? Yesterday I read in the NY Times that DNA is probably much more a factor in "overweight" (even more than we already suspected). But oh, the cringing sense of physical discomfort, the desire to disappear...it will never go away. In some terribly way, I seem to be addicted to the sense of detachment or unreality that comes over me when, after having spent a day feeling very able to resist overeating, I end up stuffing myself with whatever isn't nailed down at home, after 7 PM. I seem to be split in two, one part of me helplessly, frightened, while watching the other part of me eat as though there were no such things as calories in whatever I am filling myself -- last night it was handfuls of Animal Crackers, of all things. Usually it is some kind of bread or crackers with peanut butter. Sometimes oatmeal with sugar, butter...the usual substitute for cookie dough, even though I haven't made cookies or cakes or pies in years, decades even. I don't allow myself to have brown sugar in the place, nor potato chips, store-bought cookies, etc. I would become morbidly obese very quickly, I'm sure. And somehow, the eating of sweets is the closest I can come to a sense of love emanating from my mother...that's the only way I could really please her, was by eating her pastries (at which she excelled in baking), even though I knew I would pay the price later. That would be when she was grousing about having to make all my fat clothes because I had no waistline and couldn't wear a skirt and keep a blouse tucked into it. Wore jeans for "chubbies," all the other degradation of not being like the other kids. What was WRONG with me, anyway?? What's wrong with me now? I've had years of therapy, spent thousands, stopped biting my fingernails: but I still haven't isolated the millisecond wherein I let go of myself and go into that split state of my mind just watching my frustrated body feeding itself. I remember my mother taking my waist measurement in front of a friend (I must have been about 10 yrs. old), and announcing that my waistline was 32 inches. Well, once I was thin and pretty -- aged 5 -- but then "something happened," and Mother took me to have all my hair cut off short, started sewing dresses for me that were totally matronly, etc. -- in other words, I was desexualized. It was a painful, eerie experience. The good news is that I managed to rise above it for the most part and not clam up and die socially. There was some part of my intelligence that just kept my chin up and made me keep my spirits up, if only for the sake of others around me, because I knew my pain would only be a huge drag if I expressed it. Mind you, I wasn't a class clown, I just kept my mind on my abilities, to read, make grades, appreciate beauty, etc. Although today I look like a golf ball poised on a tee, I still know to remain cheerful, and then nobody really cares if I'm overweight. But the deal is, I myself care so very much....
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From: Large Laura
This is my story...
Reading all the stories of the pain inflicted on children by "well meaning" family members makes my heart ache just as real as it was when I too was the victim of this familial theorpy. I have so many stories I could write for days, but I'll just share 1 today. I was a fat kid. I'm sure it had a lot to do with divorced parents who never really understood that there might be a need for some counseling, a philandering father with a god complex due to his position of small town doctor, and a step mother who HATED me because I resembled my mother. I have come to realize in adulthood that I was emotionally abused and neglected as a child. Food was always the easiest target for my father and step monster, so obvious and double the impact because it was a comentary on both my worthlessness and my mother's parenting. My father was embarressed to be seen with me and so the every other weekend I spent with him was a torture wrapped in a nightmere with a frosting of degridation for extra punch. Ironically enough my brother and I were frequently left to our own to scrounge for food, sneak things - Lord forbid you took something from the pantry cause it wasn't ours. More often than not Dad and Step monster would sleep the entire day on a saturday after morning office hours. Breakfast was usually a soda and a hostess treat on the drive in. Lunch was slept through so we didn't get any. Dinner was often as late as 9 because they had slept or fought all day. It's a wonder I didn't loose any weight- maybe that was the plan all along. I would pack/sneak things from home in my weekend case - cooking chocolate, jar of pickle slices, sleeve of crackers- just so I could eat something. I still have a bit of hoarding behavior today. The most degrading single event that I can remember was the Easter I was about 11 or 12. My step siblings were there ( rare since they often visited their father on weekends), we were all excited to get Easter Baskets. Sitting on the table were five baskets ladden with treats and goodies and chocolate and sugar of all sorts. My mind was racing with the glory of it, the trading and exploring, as I approached the table and saw one basket was different. My basket had a stuffed animal like the rest, but no treats or chocolate. My basket was stuffed with raw carrots, a few wilted celery sticks, and a huge bottle of TAB Cola. My Easter was low cal and publicly humiliating. I cried the rest of the morning and I remember that my Dad may have had a hint of remorse for it, but that was soon remedied when we were sent home early because I would ruin the family gathering that night.
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From: Amanda
This is my story...
I was an incredibly active child - when I was healthy. My mom always referred to me as the "million dollar child" as my immune system seems to have the performance standard of a Yugo. Needless to say, this has lead to more than average time spent sick in bed, and has possibly contributed to the ballooning protrusion that is my backside for more than two decades. (I might, however, note that I have the same body type as my father and his mother...but genetics has apparently become entirely passe in discussing weight ;) ) Needless to say, this left my petite little mother incredibly confused. How could her soccer-playing, tree-climbing, bike-riding, swimming, jumping, hyperactive little Panda Bear get so ridiculously girthy? We never ate out, mom always cooked from scratch and forced veggies down our throats with a voracity that would startle most hyenas. So she did the only thing that she knew how - she took me to the doctor and had them run all sorts of tests on me to figure out what the hell was wrong with my skin that it seemed to retain so much more blubber beneath it than everyone elses. My metabolism was fine, on the low end, but over-all in a normal range. My thyroid was functioning at a normal level. Everything seemed great and dandy. No medical emergencies for this little girl! At long last, I had made a trip to the doctors office and recieved a clean bill of health. Or so I thought. But, upon hearing this in the doctors office, my mother went ballistic on me and screamed that she had known from the beginning that this was my fault - that I was sneaking food and that I was a lazy glutton. Oh, and she had evidence. She had opened a tub of cool-whip to discover that most of it had been eaten. Nevermind that I knew it had been eaten over the top of some strawberry shortcakes that my dad had made for myself, my brother, and the neighbor girls and neglected to tell my mother about. I was eight years old. I started my first diet the next day. Slimfast is disgusting enough when you're 18 and drinking it out of your own desire to defecate you way to thinness. When you're 8 years old and forced to take it to school as your lunch, it is a downright punishment. It's even more of a punishment when your principal takes it away from you and forces you to get "hot lunch" which you then have to go home and explain to your mother. Don't get me wrong. Aside from this incident my mother and I have maintained a great relationship. And lord knows, if she hadn't constantly been at my neck about my weight, I probably wouldn't have pushed myself to work as hard as I did at other things, and I probably wouldn't be in gradschool at the moment. It's best described as a need to feel like my mother thought I was a worthwile person, rather than a lazy glutton with an eating disorder. I'm sure she'd be shocked to hear that. She loves me too much to even stand the thought of me thinking that way. But here's the disturbing part of this wonderfully one-sided tale of an overly plump child. When I actually DID develop an eating disorder, there was never any rush to the hospital. I was rewarded by having $500 of new clothes bought for me. Keep in mind, no one knew for years. But I knew, and that wonderfully mixed message about "good" and "bad" eating disorders formed itself in my head, as I was lauded for being so much "healthier" than I had been. Four years later I have gotten myself back to what I consider a "healthy" point. I'm still overweight by BMI standards, but I work out daily and eat a diet that that has a tendency to really annoy my husband, who has a a bizzare aversion to all things green. I still catch flak from my mom about my weight every now and again, but these days she's more interested in competition dieting with her friends (what IS the baby-boomers obsession with fad diets??) than worrying about me, as she's now ill more often than I am. To parents who may read this, and to parents who have posted here looking for help with their fat children, here is some simple advice: DON'T send your children the message that their life will be magically better if they are thin, or treat weight loss differently than you treat weight gain. If you want your kids to be healthy, then encourage healthy habits. Cook dinner yourself, go for family bike rides, take active vacations. If your kid is still fat, at least you know that they are eating well and are active. When you start to promote thinness as a goal rather than health, you set off all kinds of emotional trauma that children aren't ready to deal with. 12 year olds don't have the emotional stability to realize that you still love them even if you don't like their body. Their body is a part of them, and if you're constantly telling them its not right, they will inevitably believe that THEY are not right. And please please please don't ever send them to school with a can of Slimfast for lunch.
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From: kellycoxsemple
This is my story...
I read many of the stories on this page, but I reached the point where I couldn't read any more. Is it really possible that my childhood (and in particular, my family) was some sort of fantasy? My family is great. Although nobody ignored weight as a relative concept, nobody insulted or persecuted me for my size. Ever. If I took it upon myself to lose weight (which nearly every girl in America does at one point, whether or not she's "unthin"), my family was supportive and hopeful for my success. But they NEVER urged me to do it, NEVER pestered me about it, NEVER teased or mocked or belittled me. My parents believed in me and everything I was capable of accomplishing, and knew that none of it had anything to do with my body size. I participated in a million activities (my father was the town recreation director -- which means I grew up doing sports of all kinds), and I enjoyed a fruitful and happy childhood all the way into my college years. The world outside my family was harsher. I could certainly write my story in the other categories of this site. Classmates, neighbors, school nurses, family doctors, various rude adults... there's always someone happy to verbally abuse a fat person. It was BECAUSE of my loving, supportive, and nonjudgmental family that I was able to withstand the slings and arrows of life's bullies. I'm still fat. I've been healthy all my life. And I'm fortunate to love and be loved by an incredible family (including the wonderful man who married me nine years ago). Please, please, please tell me that there are others like me out there!
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From: Ash
This is my story...
I suppose I was never really fat. It didn't click with me until recently. Growing up, my parents always called me beautiful. My friends never called me fat; my guy friends even told me I was hot. I didn't believe them. The one whose opinion I valued above all was my older brother's. Big mistake. I proved to be a very ignorant girl. My brother wasn't the saint I thought he was, and he took to calling me fat. It makes me dumb, i know. A stupid girl. But it got worse. My brothe always told me I needed to lose weight. My clothes were too big. he convinced me that my arms were fat and that I had a double chin--- looking back I had neither. But my blind obedience to my big brother med me to believe that i WAS fat. He told me that mom and dad didn't call me fat to my face because i was their daughter, and they didn't want to hurt me. The same with my friends. My brother manipulated me into believing that everyone in my school called me fat behind my back. This went on for five years. The only time anyone convinced me otherwise was when counceling proved my brother to be mentally unstable. Maybe it makes me that way too, considering how willing i was to believe him. Some thing good came out of all of it though. I have never discriminated against anyone for weight or otherwise. I don't even joke about others weights. Sometimes I look in the mirror and still see what my brother imprinted on my mind. The the ones who really love me tell me the truth.
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From: Sara
This is my story...
“Come on! It’s just a little bit further- you can do this!” “I just… need to rest for a while.” I say as I stumble off the side of the trail, slinging my pack to the ground and sitting beside it. My father’s face gets fuzzy around the edges as I concentrate on breathing as normally as I can. The scouts are gathering around, staring at us. “We’re almost there! It’s stupid to give up now!” “I’m not giving up…. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up later.” My father looks around at the nine boys standing around, then leads them on up the mountain. I put my arms across my knees and stare at the dirt between my feet, taking tiny sips of air so the others won’t make fun of me. Tears gather in my eyes, and I rub them away with my wrists. Finally my brother catches up, and sits beside me, hanging his arm from my shoulders and glaring at the other boys. After an eternity, the last boy disappears around the bend in the trail. “Okay” Says my brother, and his hand starts rubbing on my back. I lean my head back and concentrate on breathing- trying to force air past the cotton bunched in my windpipe. I wheeze, I cough, I cry, and finally it eases. Still wheezing slightly, I stand up and lift my pack to my shoulders. “Go on ahead, I’ll catch up.” I say to my brother. He puts his hands on my shoulders and stares, concerned, into my eyes; then turns and hurries up the trail. Alone now, I can take my time. I can listen to the forest; the wind, the birds. I can walk, I don’t have to march faster than I am comfortable going. I get to the top and it is a beautiful view. I can see our campsite down by the lake at the base of the valley. My father walks up and stands beside me. “See? It wasn’t that hard.” I smile up at him, then look back at the lake. From up here I can see that it’s crescent shaped, and what we had thought was an island is a peninsula. Two people are fishing on the shore, hoping for trout, probably catching debris, if anything. Our campsite is the only wide part of the shore, twenty tents scattered in a field behind a rocky beach. I can see my mother sitting in a camp chair, her feet propped up on a log by the fire. She didn’t want to come on this hike this morning. Maybe I should have stayed behind with her. My father rounds up all the boys and announces that, as the slowest walker, I am to lead the way back to the camp. All the boys groan and roll their eyes at me. I hurry through the crowd to the head of the trail and start walking. Maybe they won’t see how red my face is. Maybe they won’t see me crying. I set a pace that’s much too fast for me; my boots slip on the path; really it’s more of a controlled fall than a hike. Soon it’s less controlled and more falling, and I end up on my butt, picking rocks out of my palms. Once again, the scouts start to pass me up, until my father shouts at them to stop. He helps me to my feet and leads me to the head of the group again, then returns to the back. My legs hurt, my hands burn. Doesn’t he see how hard this is for me? I just want them to go on ahead of me. I know the way back, there’s only the one trail to follow. I keep walking, staring at the ground, trying to hide the sounds of my breathing. I go at a more comfortable pace this time, trying to ignore the complaints from behind me, just trying to stay upright. My father starts singing a song, some old rock song that everybody knows. Some of the boys join in. He shouts ahead that everyone should sing. I ignore them, concentrating on walking, concentrating on breathing. I’m not trying to hide it anymore, I openly wheeze with every step. I’m now racing my body to the camp. Will I collapse here or in my tent? After about four choruses, the path flattens out, and the camp is visible just around the next bend. The scouts hurry past me, shoving and teasing each other. I skirt around the edge of the campsite and find my tent. I unzip the door and throw my pack inside, then crawl in and curl up on my side. I wake up to someone scratching at the roof of the tent. I peek my head out and smile at my brother. “Hey, it’s dinnertime. We’re gonna have spaghetti.” “Thanks,” I say, then crawl out and stand. “How are you feeling?” I borrow one of my father’s phrases; “Like I’ve been rode hard and put up wet.” He chuckles a little, then asks “Are you sure you’re alright?” “Yeah, I’m fine” I say as we walk toward the fire. I smile at my father and sit beside my mother. She tousles my hair and leans in to kiss my cheek. “Did you have a good time today?” “Yeah, it was alright, but I fell.” I answer her, showing my skinned hands. “You’d better wash up before dinner.” I walk to the edge of the camp, where a jug of water is tied to a tree. I squeeze a little soap from the tube tied to the handle and wash my hands. I go to my tent and get my flashlight and my dinner utensils; a collapsible cup, a plate and a spork. I return to the fire and sit beside my mother again. Dinner is finally ready and we all pass our plates to my father. He spoons rehydrated something into each dish. It tastes like the spaghetti they serve in the school cafeteria- plain noodles and tomato paste, but I eat it. After dinner we rinse our dishes, then hand them off to the boys doing dishes tonight. The rest of us return to the fire. The older boys tell stories and jokes they heard on other camping trips. I’ve heard most of them before, but I still laugh. The dishwashers return and my parents get out the popcorn and the marshmallows. I spear two marshmallows on my skewer and stick it in the hottest part of the fire. I smile as they catch fire and hold my skewer up, admiring the blue flames swirling around them. I blow the flames out when both marshmallows are burned, then wait while they cool. I see my father staring at me across the flames. “Are you sure you want both of those? Don’t you want to share with your brother?” I manage to keep my smile on my face as I shake my head, then I look back at my marshmallows. I quickly pull one off and chew. My mouth’s too dry, it only tastes like charcoal to me. I quickly shove the other one in my mouth and swish some water around to chase the taste away. My mother smiles at me and smoothes my hair. “Do you want some of my popcorn, honey?” I shake my head and lean against her side. Once everybody has what they want, my father sits forward and tells a story to the group. It’s one of my favorites, I’ve read the book he got it from. He’s a great storyteller, his voice rises and falls, finding the rhythm of the words as he speaks them, building tension until he reaches the conclusion. We all smile and clap, then he offers the marshmallow bag around to everybody but me. He doesn’t offer me the bag, but I smile and say “No thank you,” then excuse myself and go back to my tent. I crawl in and take off my boots, then crawl into my sleeping bag and shove the material against my mouth as I cry, as quietly as I can, until I fall asleep.
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From: Nike
This is my story...
I lucked out, really. I was fiercely independent (still am) which helped with the fat-shaming I got from my mom and brothers, and one of my half-sisters was very supportive. My mom meant well, I know. She didn't want me to go through what she apparently was. I watched her yo-yo diet off and on again for years. She still is. I ate what the rest of the family did and realized that I actually ate less when I found out that both of my brothers and my mom had stashes of sweets (this was when she wasn't on another diet). This didn't stop comments like "If you just lost a few inches from your waist, you could have a perfect hourglass figure" from my mom, nor my brothers from telling me point-blank that the only reason I was voted in as Prom Queen was because no one liked the other girl in the running. When we did the BMI in a junior high health class, I immediately thought it was worthless because another girl I knew very well who was boyish-shaped and got made fun of for being flat-chested (which was a very obvious genetic trait, if you saw her brother, or her mother) was the same height I was and I had recently been told that big breasts ran through my mom's side of the family. If BMI didn't take into account genetic disparities like breast size in women, how accurate could it really be? When my mom suggested I diet, I refused up until college, when I did it mostly because I wanted an excuse to see her every other week at the Weight Watcher's meeting. As soon as she stopped going, I did as well. I honestly hadn't tried very hard at the diet thing, sticking to the upper ranges and trying to fit my favorite foods into the regimen. I actually gained weight after a brief initial loss and didn't care. It took most of college away from my family before I realized that I'm freaking gorgeous. Yes, I'm fat and that's okay. I'm also lucky that I'm genetically inclined to add fat to my breasts and hips first, everywhere else later. When I point out I'm fat, people flounder and say things like, "Oh, no! You're just... pleasingly plump" or "Well, yes, but you carry it so well!" or something else like that. Going home is still a pain, though. Mom's constantly talking about her current weight-loss. My brothers are obsessing about theirs to the point of getting my dad involved (one is husky and the other one can eat anything and everything without gaining a pound and probably isn't bothering to get his blood pressure and other things checked like he should. He sill worries about weight, though, particularly his wife's and brother's). I'm still trying to figure out how to approach them with Health At Every Size.
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{Family
{Home
FRIENDS
|| From: Mary Ellen
This is my story...
I didn't have very many friends, I always had a "best" friend, but never a group. I wasn't a joiner, I was shy and probably withdrawn. I remember never wanting to call any attention to myself, because it would usually be negative attention. I didn't join any activities, and sports was definitely out of the question! I remember feeling different from the other girls, I couldn't wear the same clothes, and didn't have a boyfriend, so it seemed there was nothing in common. I remember wanting one of those kilts you pinned with the big safety pin, but back in the sixties they didn't make them in size 24 1/2. I also wanted boots that went up to the knee, but there were none big enough to fit my calves. Clothes are so terribly important when you are a teenager. Bell bottomed jeans, couldn't come close to finding them. I remember buying the largest size men's jeans I could find, and leaving them unbuttoned and unzipped under a long sweater. That was the best I could do then. I made a lot of money as a teenager babysitting since I wasn't dating. When I got to high school I think my friends felt a lot of pressure not to hang with me, and while I could understand why, it still hurt a lot. I think I missed out on a lot in my childhood.
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From: Kathy
This is my story...
Well, as a "fat" infant, child and then teenager, I had gotten "used to" not having clothes fit me and all of the other wonderful things that went along with that. But, to be honest nothing had prepared me for the heart break I was to deal with from Jim Stewart ( not Jimmy).
I was 16 and really into cars. Has a cool '67 Charger( this was back in '74) and my group of friends were into "cruising" and hanging out at Country Kitchen drinking coffee until the *wee* hours of the morning.
By "hanging out "". I met a guy, who went to the other HS and was a year older than I, my group of friends
and this guy kinda clicked. And to be honest I thought he and I did too. We started out just all hanging together, then Jim and I would go *cruising* alone. He liked the * hot cars* too. I had the biggest crush on him. He wasn't the cutest guy I had ever met, or the coolest. But, he just was so sweet( I thought), and had a great smile, this friendship went on for quite a few months( and for a teenager that is a LONG time). We would drive and talk for hours and hours on end. Then one night, we were out in the country , parked
( just talking). and Jim looked at me and told me he needed to tell me something. (OH hope upon hope could it be...did he like me?) He then said the worst thing I have ever had anyone ever say to me...
He said "Kathy, with your personality, if you had a *FOXY* body I would have met my match!" I just sat there and stared at him, not really believing( or wanting to believe) what I heard. As a "fat chick", I just shrugged it off and chalked it up to how my life would be. It has taken me many years to come the realization that, If someone chooses to not like me because of my exterior image ...they are the ones missing out on a good thing..NOT me! NOW, I try to live true to this philosophy "The shell may be pleasing to the eye...but it is what the shell encompasses that truly matters. Because as time moves on the shell may fade, but what is inside lives on forever!" Thanks for allowing me to share!
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From: Big H
This is my story...
When I was in third grade this group of girls came up to me and the started calling my Fatty Fatty two by four. I started crying and they started laughing at me. Then my "friend" comes and joins in on the laughing. I hurt me really bad. It just comes to show that true friends come once in a life time. But now I'm in the seventh grade and I have only one really good friend and we have been friends for two years now and I hope the friendship will last for the rest of our lives. That is my story!!
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From: Rodney
This is my story...
Being a the FAT kid in school really was the hardest thing I can imagine a human can go through especially in middle school. I have been overweight all of my life and I gained most of it in middle school which is when I was doing all of my sneaking around and eating and just plain wouldn't stop eating until I was almost or was in fact sick. I had a 48" waist in the 8th grade if that gives you any idea. There was a group that I so wanted to fit into and I did as long as I could be the brunt of their jokes. I would walk into a room and some of them would yell "Where's the Beef?" That would really make me mad and I would just fall into a huge state of depression. My grades went to crap and it took until college to really get them back up. I hated myself and I came close to committing suicide when I was in the 10th grade. The one in memory that sticks with me from middle school was when one of the most popular kids in school Adam Kepler stood up and called me a loser to my face and them proceeded to call me "Beefy" going back to the chant that would be said when I would walk into a room. Since coming to college I have changed myself both physically and emotionally. I began lifting weights thanks to my best friend Russ Cochran and I have had nothing but support for doing all that I have done. Sure I have been dissed by some of the HOT sorority girls here but overall the dates that I have had are wonderful memories. There is hope for any one who wants to lose weight it can be done but it a hard row to hoe and takes discipline and it is still a daily struggle for and will be for the rest of my life.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
oh god! It all started in kindergarten. A new girl came into our class. Skinny as thread! I was sitting by friends, I doubt they even knew what the word "fat" was, but she taught them.
Kindergarten : New girl , know a LP, was evil. I was just hanging on the fence and suddenly I was being pushed down by a lot of girls. They were LP's friends. They would do what every she told them to.
I was pushed about 30 times, never able to get up.
I scraped both my knees, elbows, and hands. I told the teacher on LP, but she didn't believe me. She said I was jealous cause she was an angel. That happened everyday till the middle of second grade when I beat her up.
Sixth grade : My and my friend, known as Sx, had a fight. I mean the usual, your stupid, know you are thing. Then she said:
At least I don't need less food, more diets! Slim Fast, Jenny Craig, or Richard Simmons.
I'm in the 8th grade now, well going to the 8th grade. And I have a friend. He was fat, but kinda cute. I saw him last week, he lost weight in a month. I lost only one pound in a month. Now I am one out of two fat kids in my school. But no one says anything about me anymore really, on about the other girl. So I am pushed to the side, so no one notices me being fat.
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From: fat
This is my story...
I was fat everybody made fun of me except for my friend. She was nice. I went to her cousins house an she was talking behind my back.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
As a child, I was nice, funny, and fat. And that combination made me perhaps the most vulnerable kid my age I knew. I had been both accepted (invited to parties and sporting events in friends' backyards) and rejected (picked last on teams, called "fatso" as I played) by my peers.
So thrilled I was for having been invited to anything AT ALL considering my appearance, I found myself berated, in public, even by my closest of "friends." One time in seventh grade an older boy decided to call me fat the whole way home on the bus. As I waited for my stop, hiding in my seat, embarrassed, and afraid I might cry, I hoped that my best friend, seated right behind me would jump up to my defense. Instead, he jumped up and ripped on me as well, having obviously decided that being friends with the other, older, thinner boy would do more for him socially than I could. And since I had made it clear to my friends that I would come back for more, he didn't really risk losing my friendship at all.
And then I grew up. I placed limits on how others could treat me. I lost some weight, but was still heavy, but disallowed anyone from thinking I was less than them. Suddenly, my sense of humor and kindness made me among the more popular kids in school. As for my "close friend" on the bus, I explained that once he "walked away from me, he could keep on walking."
Being fat isn't a crime, and it doesn't make you gross. But you can't make anyone think more of you, or treat you the way you deserve to be treated, until you think more of you, and treat yourself with the respect you hope for from other people.
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From: Topaz2576
This is my story...
The only thing I really remember about being a fat child is that I was always alone, it always was bad when you were in gym class and of course they had to pick teams, and of course I was always the one standing there left and nobody wanted to pick me. as for clothes, I never had any that were popular so I really never did fit in. very depressing, even now as a fat adult, I really have no friends, I suffer from depression and an eating disorder. I hope some day kids will learn to be nice.
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From: Chubbygirl
This is my story...
I started to gain weight when I was about 11 years old. A neighbor and I had gotten into an argument over a neighborhood boy because he liked me and didn't like her. It's all very juvenile now that I recall the whole experience. This child had a lot of influence over the other children. For two years no one in my neighborhood talked to me. No one spoke, waved or even looked my way. As you can imagine, enormous depression set in and I was devastated at how my life had turned out. At the age of 11, there are so many things that are in front of you and a whole life ahead of you. All I wanted was to die. There was eventually a "stand-off" at my house and it was me and my parents standing up to the whole neighborhood. These people called me fat and ugly and they called us poor. All of these things were true.
After about 2 years, one person in the neighborhood started to talk to me. It was like I had been set free. It wasn't an option to switch schools because of the small size of our town. I gained about 50-60 lbs. in only 4 years. It was a slippery slop and even as an adult I battle with my weight. I am now a size 18 and I have been on a constant diet for a year. I work out constantly and watch what I eat. The weight is coming off slowly but surely. Being fat has ruined my life and taken away my youth. I hate this feeling.
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From: Amana
This is my story...
I am 12 years old. I weight 215lbs but I don't have a problem with friends and am writing this to explain to people with a bit af body weight that not all people are mean. I live in new york and go to a public school. I have many many friends, I have 5 best friends and have even gone out with a boy since 5th grade. I am what I call big beautiful and happy I have many friends so for all you people who get picked on and have little friends remember this NOT ALL PEOPLE ARE LIKE THAT!!!!!
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From: Sarah
This is my story...
well.....surprisingly enough my life as a "fat kid" hasn't been all that bad.....<my life has been miserable, but the fat factor has/had nothing to do with it>I have a unique sense of humor which draws the friends in, I find my self being referred to as "popular"....of course, when it comes to sports I'm always picked last, but that's only to be expected <lol>.......there is only one thing I can say affects me negatively <which relates to me being "fat"> would have to be the way I'm accepted<or not> by prospective mates...........but I suppose that's typical....
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From: Letty
This is my story...
I am very, very fat and my best friend, who although curvy is in no way fat but insists she is, always insists it doesn't affect our friendship. I know that she's biased against fat people though, because when we're out she'll say something like "look at the size of that" or "I can't stand so-and-so, she's so fat it's disgusting." I think we'd get on a lot better if I was thin. Being fat has caused a lot of disagreements, eg. when she wants to go out somewhere and I won't come with her because she can wear nice clothes whereas mine look as if they came from "Tents R Us". Even so, true friends do not care if you weigh 200 pounds. They care about YOU!
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From: Katie,Liu
This is my story...
Well my problem is or was that I was obese. Know alot of people are, I know that now. But I did get teased a lot, I mean a lot. My friends wouldn't hang with me, cos there was bullies that would start on them if they hanged with me. I was ashamed of being fat, I wanted to be a human again....just I didn't know how....
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From: Natalie
This is my story...
Oh..where do I start...I guess (as I remember) the making fun of has started since the 1st grade..ud think the same people would get old of me telling me i need to fat and i need to lose weight, blah..i guess not since its been happening for my whole childhood...1st grade..i remember being 30 lbs overweight...my skinny friend was 40 and i was 70...i guess it never affected me back then..cuz i was little..and u dont really think about those kind of things bothering you at the time..then in 5th grade..i remember my cousin giving me a diet plan...ever since the first grade i tried going on diets..because of what people say to me..its quite disturbing...calling 7 year olds fat and that they need to lose weight...well my parents r from a diff. country..we visit it every 4 years...every time i go there, they have a nickname for me..and it means chubby...we had to go last year..i cried my eyes out for most of the vacation(2 months) let me tell you what some people have said to me..."They have pretty face, too bad their body ruins it"...i dunno that was kinda harsh..my grandma was telling me how i should try to lose weight and be my sisters size..I HATE being compared to people..and stupid comments like..ull break the bed, or..my cousin had to sit in the back w/ me and my sister and shes like I CANT SIT IN THE BACK! theyre too fat! theres no room! u know..comments like that have been shoved in my face for nearly...10 years..i am now 16..and still very hurt by it..hey ..i even tried committing suicide in the 8th grade..then this year i took an overdose...i knew it wouldnt kill me, i didnt even try killing myself..just to take out the anger and hurt from all those years..my mom found out about it, she said she was gunna take me to the doctors to get my blood checked..ha guess who didnt take me? exactly, i was mad at my friends for telling hte counselors..oh well, i cant even think to a time where i was even happy, how pathetic is that? yeah...i was on a roll for exercising for abouta week..lost 5 lbs..but now i quit...i have a great bf..that tried helping me w/ it, cuz he knows how much i hurt ...but i quit...and i hate my life, i hate being like this, everyday i ask the question..why me? what did i do? all my friends r freakin twigs..i hate hanging out w/ them cuz my self esteem goes down to hell...its horrible, and i hate being like this..no one knows how i feel, theres no one that i can really totally relate to...my dad made it worse this year too..i ran away for a day twice..oh wel, i got grounded..i was crying a lot cuz they were yelling at me, etc, not getting into it..and then my dad got so mad that he said i could kill myself..ha..oh well, whatever, wouldnt he be sorry if i died..maybe, i dunno, oh well...i life is a drama and i hate my life and everything in it except my bf..and that's my story : )
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From: Kayli
This is my story...
I am going to be a freshmen this next year and I weigh 152 lbs. My whole life I have been overweight. I love playing sports like basketball, soccer, and tennis despite my size. I am currently second string on the basketball team, a starter on the soccer team, and #1 on the tennis team. Though I have never been the fastest, I am certainly the strongest. I also love school, and am number one in my class of 200. My fellow students do not make fun of me because they have respect for me and realize although I may not be the prettiest or the skinniest, I have better grades and a better serve. My life has not been a piece of cake though. I am part of the so called "popular crowd" and am constantly sorrounded by beautiful girls and their hot boyfriends. One of my friends is the so-called hottest girl in school and constantly has self-esteem problems. I always have to listen to her complain about how fat she is and how she hasn't eaten in three days. Just hearing this bringin me to tears thinking if she, who weighs 40 lbs. less than me, is fat, then what am I?
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From: Jessica
This is my story...
When I was a child I had great tons of friends. I was always invited to little partys and was really popular. Around 10 years old, I started to gain weight and then we moved...I gained a lot of weight and didn't have any friends at my new school. I remember one of the cute boys in class would always stare at me and puff his cheeks out to make fun of me. That was 6th grade. The summer after that year I went on a diet with my aunt and lost about 60 pounds. Then we moved again. I was starting middle school and with my new body, nobody made fun of me. I had tons of friends and lots of boyfriends. Everyone always told me how pretty I was, and what a great figure I had. With all the attention, I forgot about the diets and started to gain weight again. Only a little, and nobody really noticed. I was still popular through 9th grade...and now it is the summer before my sophomore year in high school and I have lost weight again, looking better than ever. My friends have been very supportive, and boyfriends, still not a problem. Losing weight is not that hard! You just have to find the right friends and stick with them. If they are good friends, they will be there for you and support you even if you get a little chunky!
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From: Stephanie
This is my story...
I can relate to every story on this website because I was the fattest kid in class, got teased all the time and beat up sometimes too, and on top of it all I had family members who were ashamed of me for my weight (my parents were very supportive, but my grandparents made me miserable). Being an only child and having difficulty making friends because of my weight caused me to rely on myself for my own source of friendship and peace. I went through the pain of rejection from my peers and learned early on that people can be shallow so I lost interest in making friends until later in life. Sometimes you cry so much that you reach a point where you can't cry anymore...then you become calloused...then you search your soul...then you rebuild your self esteem. All this takes time, however, and adolesence is not an easy time to work on this. As a loner, I became my own best friend and smile every day knowing that no one can touch my self esteem. Let the fools call me names if it makes them laugh...I really wouldn't want a shallow friend anyway, so it's better that they show their true colors up front. This was a long, slow process...but I stopped trying to impress other people a long time ago and learned to say "forget them all". I was very introverted for a long time, but not for fear of rejection...I was just disgusted with people in general and their presence got on my nerves :-) With time and maturity, I outgrew this though. I am lucky to have found 3 dear friends who have been very close with me for almost 15 years now. They're very mature, deep thinking people and I love them like my own family. I guess the moral of my story is that being fat has taught me how to look out for myself. It made me isolated for a long time, but I used that time to discover who I am. I consider myself fortunate to have been the "fat" kid because it's taught me compassion for people in pain, patience, self love, and the importance of taking care of my own needs first.
My life motto:
No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
-Eleanor Roosevelt
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From: Fred B.
This is my story...
What can I say I've always been a little Chubby. My mom used to tell me I was just big boned, but I was fat, plain and simple. Unlike other kids i was unable to participate in sports, so I took to musical instruments and the band. It was there I found my true love the Clarinet. I was constantly harrassed by my peers for being a male clarinetist, I was idolized by my band mates. They used to Call me Fast Freddy. When I went to college I continued to excell with my instrument but could not stop my constant cravings for food. I once begged a friend for food when i had no money on my card and he called me fat. I almost felt like crying, but now i have gotten over this and play my clarinet professionally and have never been happier. So no matter what hand life deals you, if you work hard it will turn out ok.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
When I was young I had one best friend. We were both fairly at a good weight for our age, certainly not overweight. Most kids saw our friendship and decided they’d have no chance becoming part of our ‘group’. Most people didn’t like me because I was the smartest child in the class and they felt inferior.
When my best friend moved away, I was constantly by myself in the 2nd grade. Then 3rd grade came and my friend moved back. She was even in my class. Things started to get better and we were both about the same fine size.
4th grade came and I wasn’t in her class. To me, it didn’t seem that big of a problem because we’d be in the same recess. No luck. She wasn’t in the same recess and so I found myself sitting on the grass often reading or drawing waiting until recess was over. I didn’t have anyone to play with. Sometimes, I would play soccer, which was a sport I was good at considering I played on a soccer team in the 3rd grade.
In the 5th grade, I was in my friend’s class but she had more friends. She went to work to introduce me to them, some of them I didn’t get a long with great. I’m not sure when it happened, but around that time I had started to put on lots of weight after being so lonely. My friend’s friends weren’t very accustomed hanging with a large kid, as most of them were skinny. But they saw through that and we became really great friends. All five of us would do neat things together and always be invited to each other’s parties. But after I got my braces sometime in April of the 5th grade, I was starting to weight 5-10 pounds overweight. Through the 6th grade, I kept gaining weight due to my braces, suddenly finding myself at 27 pounds overweight. Soon I jumped up to 37 pounds but made an effort of loosing weight during the summer. I started exercising more and lost a few pounds but just gained it again.
During the summer, I was invited to go to the mall with 2 of my friends to clothes shop. I hate shopping. It’s not like I can’t find any clothes, but the clothes I find are not stylish. But even when I was younger and skinny, I never cared about fashion. I think my friends were starting to become embarrassed with my looks. They didn’t like doing things with me because of my weight. They never mentioned it to me, never said I needed to lose weight, but it seemed like they dropped reminders of it to me unintentionally.
I got tired of always hearing them complain about weight. They made jokes about the fat kids in our grade (kids who were bigger than me) and I really disapproved of that.
I found I was maturing faster than any of them. They were still being rude and bullied the kids who were large. I hated how they made fun of them. They always, however, did the teasing behind the person’s back so they would never find out. They are too cowardly to tell the person. I’ve always been the one to stick up for the person, knowing that they never did anything to my friends and they just wanted to be left alone.
Probably a good reason I never got teased so much as I should have was because of the goals I accomplished in school. I got a medal for reading over 100 books, got straight As on my report cards, I was just a plainly smart person. My parents and teachers were extremely proud of me. I hadn’t gotten even a B+ on a report card in over 3 years.
But gym was a nightmare. We were never graded in gym, but when I got my last report card which was only days ago, I found that I had been graded in gym and received a B+. I thought it wasn’t fair, that a person shouldn’t be graded on their physical ability. I must admit, I’m not very athletic and that’s due to my weight. I’m a slow runner and never really participated in any major sports. But I’m going to go back to school next year with weight lost, a new wardrobe, and new thoughts about people who are overweight. And I know my friends still won’t care about how I look because they’re my friends.
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From: Kristi
This is my story...
I remember the exact moment that I realized I was different from the other kids, that I was fat and that it was bad to be fat. I was about 5 years old, and my mother had enrolled me in swimming lessons at the YMCA. There was a small group of us, possibly 8 or so. We were taken to the shallow end of the pool, where the dives blocks were placed for the youth swim teams. We were instructed to line up single file, and one by one climb up on a dive block, and jump into the water, where one of the "instructors" waited to catch us in the water. My turn came to jump. I climbed to the top of the dive block, stood up straight, and looked down at the man, (he was really no more than a teenager, but at that time he seemed to be like my parents--an adult). He started to chuckle and looked at the two other "instructors" and said, "Oh God!". The other instructors laughed and laughed for a good while, probably only a few seconds, but it seemed like forever. I didn't jump into the water. I looked around at everyone, climbed off the block, and went to sit by the wall. I cried and cried. When lessons were over, I went inside to my waiting mother who was angry with me for not jumping in the water. Of course she didn't see what had taken place, and I didn't even try to tell her, because my humiliation was too great. I recalled this story to her a few years back, and she admonished me, saying that my "childs memory" wasn't accurate, and that I must have imagined the laughing. But I didn't imagine it, it was very real. I was a fat kid, and am now a fat adult, and I struggle every second of every day with hatred of my body and its flaws and defects. I hate everything about myself, from the fat that encases me, to the insanity I feel because I can not get a grip on these emotions, to the lowest of low self esteem. I have met a wonderful man, via the internet, and although he knows I am not thin or beautiful, he says he loves me for me, the me inside and not the body that houses me. I do not believe him, although I want to so badly. I am going to be with him in only 19 days, and I am so afraid that he will reject me once he meets me in person, that he will take back all the kind words and reassurances, and see that I'm not any of those things because I am fat. To be fat is a curse, and I can't imagine what crimes I've committed in a past life to deserve a sentance of this magnitude. I am trying to force myself to be more positive, and learn to love myself, but to be honest I don't see what there is to love, because all the goodness in the world can't make me attractive or appealing, and if I can't be that on the outside, it doesn't matter what's on the inside. When you're fat nobody sees the you on the inside, only the you on the outside. People assume that when you're fat, you're lazy, you're stupid, you're incapable, you're unacceptable. I suppose I only reinforce this by believing it as well, but I've felt this way for so long, I don't know if I can change the way I feel. I don't know that I am strong enough to overcome this. And I'm tired of fighting it.
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From: Fat and alternative
This is my story...
I am a self-identified femnist, fat activist, and punk rocker. As you read this I'm sure that you all know the prejudice you must face being fat. But I also agreed with NONE of the conventional mainstream Ideas. I had/have a wonderful friend who loved me in every way possible. We listened to the same music and agreed on a lot of things but she is a fat hater. When ever I'm out with her sometimes a chubby/fat person will walk by and she'll say thimgs like: "Look at the size of Him/her!" or "Eeeeww!" and even things like; "God they're so disgusting!". It always makes me sad because I know how they feel. It also makes me wonder; if those other people are so 'ugly' and 'disgusting' why does she accept me?
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From: Dave
This is my story...
My memories of being a fat kid were both good and bad. I have a few good memories but a lot
were bad too. As a fat boy, you have to buy "husky" pants and kids used to tease me with that
name. I've been called all the fat names in the book and some that aren't I'm sure. All in all
it makes you lose any self esteem or self confidence. And when you're a kid, you don't know
any better, you keep eating because it's the only thing that makes you feel good. I'd have my
parents look at a grossly obese person and say "see you better lose weight before you become
like them." And I know they meant well and that they were right but it's such a pressure
on you. The boys in my classes at elementary school used to call me "fatty" and pick on me for
no reason. I usually would spend my time on the playground by myself or in a group of other
"outcasts." And I can't tell you how often I'd hear "you'd be so handsome and look so good if
only you'd lose about 50 pounds." And again all it did was make me eat more to, drown my sorrow
with food. In high school, I more or less kept to myself at first. My grades suffered, I was
depressed and I just ate and ate and ate. Finally, I enrolled in the "slow" class and learned
how to work smarter when it came to school and my grades improved. I still wasn't socially
"accepted" but I was now known as the "smart" fat kid. I never went to dances or school
functions, never went to homecoming or prom. I just couldn't ask anybody out, nor did I want to
dress up a body that wasn't "normal."
Now, I'm still heavy but I find myself acting as a guardian to my nieces and nephew, making
sure they don't end up being the fat kid and going through the same things I did. The pressures
of being a kid are tough, the taunts are endless; but being a fat kid is like going through it
twice.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I don't really know when I became fat, but somewhere in elementary school I became the fat kid. It didn't help that I was also the kid with braces and glasses. Luckily I tried to hold my head high and ignore all of the taunts, but with a name like Hattie there is only so much you can ignore. I endured, "Fatty Hattie two by four, can't get through the kitchen door" and that wasn't just by the kids at school. My family could be just as cruel. My dad would say things like that to me all of the time. My mom would see a full-figured bride in the paper who wasn't very pretty and would say, "Well, there is still hope for you!". I spent a lot of my elementary years obsessing about food. What I would eat, when I would eat, how much I would eat, what it would taste like. I had friends amazingly and even boyfriends, so I don't guess I had it too bad, but I knew that I was fat and I hated that word...still do to be honest. I can remember wanting to wear certain clothes that were the in style and being told by the sales clerk, "Honey, we don't make them in your size." When I got to jr high I tried out for cheerleading, but I didn't make it. Later I heard some girls saying that I almost broke the floor when I did the jumps. That did it. I wouldn't eat. I decided that I wasn't going to be fat anymore. I just quit eating. If I ate I threw it up. I walked several miles a day and did sit-ups endlessly. Amazingly, my mother who is a nurse didn't see anything wrong and to this day (15 years later) still doesn't. I made myself thin. Suddenly boys thought I was gorgeous, everyone thought I was "it" and I could wear anything and you know what...I was still the same insecure person inside because of all the cruel remarks. I would only drink water all day, eat 1/2 of a baked potato without anything on it and then I would have to throw that up and then walk three miles and do 200 sit-ups each day. All because I was fat in my own eyes. Because of what I did to my body during that time I ended up having my gallbladder removed during my teen years. I also gained all the weight back and then some. The scars that will never heal though are the ones on the inside. I cringe every time I hear someone put a child down or call them fat...I guess I never will get over what that word and what it means to me has done to me.
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From: JumboJet
This is my story...
Well where to begin is difficult at best, Jumbo Jet as listed for my name is one I acquired in the 3rd grade when I was 9 or 10 years old. We all had nicknames and that was mine. I was the fun fat kid, I always laughed, always had a crowd around me, and I was always really lonely. I still am to this day. Being a fat kid, was hard, I see in the pictures when I was a little girl that I was pretty, then my mom got divorced and we lived on our own, and then a few years later she married, and the man that she married is my step dad, and I dearly love him, but he was an alcoholic, so henceforth , my mother became one too, and it always scared me to see them when they came home. They were never home during the day as they were at work, and they were never home in the evenings, and my mom would always leave us money for whatever every day in the summer, well of course we would buy sweets and candies, and after awhile I craved this stuff, and got bigger and bigger, it was the only time I did not feel lonely. My parents left us alone in the evenings late into the night when they were out drinking. My brother started drinking and drugging at age 14 or 15 and I was little miss perfect, except I was fat and getting more so. I had wonderful grades, and always did everything right, and never acted out. My "Dad" was mean about the fat, he always had some comment to make, and neither one of my parents ever said if they loved us or not, so we never knew. Being fat was my way I guess of protecting myself, and the food was comforting to me, hell it still is...The fat protected me from anyone hurting me again, I had been sexually molested by an older neighbor of ours at age 8 or 9, I can't really remember, but I know it was after that that I felt even more alone, and didn't know what to do with no parents around and a brother that was a slime. I went to school, did everything perfect, was always known for how good my grades were, and I always had a lot of people that hung around me, I even had a couple of boyfriends, and one that I truly loved and still do to this day, he is my best friend, and I found out about 5 years ago that he is gay, but he hasn't changed and he is still my best friend. He loves me no matter how fat I am, and I still can read in my yearbook, how jealous he was that I was getting married to someone else, and that I looked so great those days...because the summer prior to my senior year, I was so sad, and so angry with life, that I lost 60 pounds, all I did was eat peanut butter and bread sandwiches and drink water all summer long, and I rode my bike into town and walked like the dickens to get away from home. When I showed up for school for my senior year, my counselor thought that I was anorexic, my parents never even noticed, because they were not around, and I was made to go to the doctor, but I was ok...I stayed thin until I got married, guess to whom??? a man that was as cold and as distant as my father and a drinker too, surprise not...and we married right after I graduated from High school, he was 11 years older than I was, and my parents supported it, they didn't tell me I should go to college and get a career first, they actually even paid for the wedding...then I had children and then he left, after he left, that lonely feeling went away after I went through a couple of years of counseling, and then I began to loose the fat. I am still fat today, and not very many people are nice about it, but it is me, and I tell people that if they don't like it that is their problem. I was in another relationship for about 3 years, and guess what, abusive...and during and after that one I gained even more weight, so guess what? That layer of fat is still protecting me, and I am still fat, but I am fit, I walk, I work out, and I am a beautiful person, have many dear friends, still no one special enough for a relationship to keep, but I know I am a good person now after years of telling myself that I was no good cause I was fat, and because some man sexually abused me, and I never had the guts to tell anyone...and I ate the pain, as most kids do, especially when their parents are not there for them to talk to and are not there to love them, and do so willingly and openly...From my marriage, I have 2 really beautiful kids that are tall and skinny, and I have raised them right, and they hear every day that I LOVE THEM, and they have nutritional meals, and snacks within reason, not TOO MUCH free time on their hands, and we have a rule of at least once a day no matter what, we have a sit down family meal. If nothing else, my being a fat kid and going through what I had to go through aka the abuse, and the distant parents, bad relationships....I have done ONE THING, I have STOPPED the CHAIN with my children..........and I am proud of that. Thanks for letting me ramble. I appreciate this site so much. Cat you are super!
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From: lesa
This is my story...
I happened upon this web site and was stunned at the picture of the little girl in the pink tutu. She could have been me. I'm obese, by even the most generous standards, and I've been obese since about 7 or 8. I've seen pictures of me at 5 or 6 with my thin, gorgeous cousin, and my legs and body are just as small as hers. I don't know what happened. I think maybe food was used as a reward in my household. It was the way we were shown affection, without any affectionate words being spoken. Those times I was given snacks was the only direct attention I got. The snacks came from my dad, who is also obese. So maybe I associate food with rewards. I only know it tastes good, and I'm apparently missing the mechanism in my brain that tells me "you're full." I found it once, though. Through phen-fen, the wonder drug. Using phen-fen, I went from 248 pounds to 174 pounds in about six months. Oh, you couldn't believe how much nicer people treated me. I went home for a family reunion, and you'd have sworn I'd won the lottery. Mom was full of compliments, and so was dad. My brother, who at one time hung pictures of fat people all over the fridge as a deterrent, was raving about me. I was feeling good and exercising, too. The weight just fell off. Then they pulled it, and my world caved in. The weight, all of it, came back within four months, and I suffered the additional blow of being the one who "lost so much weight only to gain it all back again - what's wrong with her!!!" Now I'm back in my huge body, and I can't stop eating because I never get full, and because it all tastes so good. I've given up. I just make some attempts to be kind to my body, but they don't result in any concrete changes. The worst of it is that I got married last year to a wonderful guy (whom I met during the phen-fen period, of course) and now that I'm huge again, I feel I've cheated him. He deserves someone else. I'm a failure at life, love, and everything else that counts. All because of my inability to stop eating. I would gladly take phen-fen again, even if there was a 50/50 probability that I'd develop heart problems. Weighing 174 was the only time in my life I recall feeling even remotely human and a little attractive. I know I'm pretty, but who can see it with my fat face and huge fat rolls dripping off me? It's a sad way to live. Being fat is something I don't want, but can't fight it. I've considered getting my stomach stapled, but I know I'd just get hungry and eat until I burst every single stitch. I don't want to judge others or tell them how to live, but for me, fat is not working. It's unhealthy and it damn sure isn't attractive! I see pictures of myself on my wedding day and just cringe. I don't look pretty - I look inflated and puffy. It's just sad.
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From: Meredith Beck
This is my story...
What I am is what you see,
What you see is what I am,
If you don't like it let me be,
cause what you see is ME.
I might be fat, or as big as a tree,
but all I know is that this is me,
I might not be skinny or even tall,
But I have feelings like you all,
I cry at night,
When there is no food in sight,
With all of my might I try to fight,
But this urge to eat can never be BEAT,
Because I am me and what I eat.
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From: Bob
This is my story...
I was a fat kid -
Well, at least while I was growing up. I, too, learned to bear the burdens and stigmas that society attaches to "fat" people for a relatively brief, but formative period in my life.
As happens to many of us as we approach and pass through puberty or other growth spurts as a child, I found myself becoming one of the "fat kids" at about 5th grade and stayed in that group until about my freshman year of high school. During that period, I became acutely aware of what it meant to be singled out, sometimes shunned, sometimes made the butt of jokes and pranks, and acquainted with the cruelty that my "normal" classmates could sometimes exercise, just to make sure that I knew my place in the pecking order of adolescent society.
I also learned the limitations of adult society as well. Grownups could be insensitive or just stupid about what they they might say to me or my parents. I learned that adults did not always consider a fat kid's needs to belong to his peer group at this age important at all as I ended up with "fat kids" clothes, which in the 1950s, were rather obviously different and styles compared to what our classmates might choose as the "in" thing to be accepted. From many different quarters the inherent message was that "chubbys" or "Fattys" were marginal members of society, at best. As long as we knew our place as defined by the "majority", we could be tolerated, but not always welcomed into the mainstream.
As anyone who has lived through early adolescence knows, difference from the norm can be a painful isolation, or at the very least, a source of real frustration. Many folks would not see you as worthy, capable, or desirable to be associated with. If you are lucky, as I think I was, you learn to cherish the friends and relationships that are offered you without the prejudice or reservation. And, if you are lucky, you have a nurturing from somewhere - at home, school, friends, somewhere. A nurturing that sees past the limitations or difference imposed by the lotteries of life.
I was lucky enough to have had some good friends and adults who accepted me for who I was, and a family who did the same. I consider my parents to have been pretty remarkable people for their time and probably outside the mainstream of American values in their ability to set an example of tolerance and genuine acceptance of all sorts of people into their lives. Some of that unconditional love helped me to realize that although society and my classmates might not have the capacity to include me, there were people who did and who worked at it. These were, and still are, the people I seek, regardless of the situation I may find myself in or the lot that Life draws for me from time to time.
I eventually grew out of being a "fat kid". But as I changed, I realized that the same forces of ignorance, exclusion, and petty assumptions were alive and well, regardless of the targeted issue. The discriminations now arose from different issues than just body size or shape, but frankly the source was the same - a mindless conformity, a heartless insecurity. Had I not gone through my "fatty" period and when I did, I might not have coped as well, or had my values strengthened when more adult transgressions against decency, tolerance, humanity, intelligence, and yes, even Love were to rear their ugly heads.
It may seem odd to some, but I see a lot of positive things with wide ranging good for the soul that came to me from this experience. I think it made me stronger in ways my unchallenged peers may have never considered. It at least taught me something of human hurtfulness and of human acceptance and compassion; something about finding true value in others, and applying those lessons in shaping my own character and relations with others. It has been a road less traveled, but has made all the difference in my experience since.
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From: A mother feeling like a failure
This is my story...
My daughter is going to be six in one week. Today she weighted in at 85 pounds. As a mother and someone she looks at for support, I feel like a failure. I feel I am killing my little girl. I have had her to a weight doctor, watched her calories, bought her exercise videos and still through it all I have managed to give her that extra piece of candy when she asked. When she said, "Mommy, I'm hungry", I was the one that gave her that extra something. As I sit here writing this, I am crying because I don't want my little girl to be fat! I am so angry at the world for putting so much pressure on people to be skinny! I myself take diet pills everyday because when I was in school I was called fat and it messed me up for life. I cannot let myself gain weight because I remember the names, and how I felt. I told myself I would NEVER have a fat child. My daughter would be small and petite. Well, I have news for you, my daughter is not petite-she is very overweight for her age. I do not love her any less for her size. I hurt for her when I hear kids at school call her fat. I want to help her, but it is so hard to do this on my own. My husband is overweight and does not help on watching her food intake. I feel so alone on my attempt to get her to lose weight. If there is any suggestions please Email me at MAX3567@cs.com. As I end this ,tomorrow I will clean out the cabinets again, start going for walks with her and pray to God for help. I love her very much and want to help her ,but I really don't know what to do. I am so tired of all this ,I just want her to be a happy child that doesn't have to worry how much she weights, or if she can eat that, or if she will be accepted. This is my story, thank you for taking the time to hear me. DG
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From: Bill
This is my story...
It all started in Autumn,1979; while I was a member of a prep league football team. The target weight for all
players was 75lbs.-not a pound more, not a pound less. Yes, my weight has fluctuated if not dramatically at the time. Furthermore, I was not patronized about my excess weight from others until the football season
was over; after which was roughly the starting point of my yo-yo dieting span that endured for several years. I was like 9-1/2 years old within the aforementioned beginning. Throughout subsequent years, not
even friends nor relatives have been supportive examples to me. They all have been gung-ho believers in
weight loss via physical fitness. At the standpoint of my parents' divorce around my 11th birthday, things
have become more tasteless for me. First off, my mother has been wanting to enroll me into a private Christian school, which I did despise to the fullest extent. Yes, the majority of students & faculty have comp-
raised of the ever-arrogant & ever-patronizing thin-oriented society. I was obviously ridiculed by those from both sides of the coin. I hardly ever participated in any extracurricular activities because of this. The
part I despised most was P.E.. The instructor himself was so military-oriented, he literally made me perform more repetitions of fitness drills & relays than the remaining class whenever times were appropriate. During my senior year of the same school, my teacher called my mom up behind my back regarding senior
trip reservations for a Caribbean cruise after I turned down the opportunity. The moment I was notified about the reservations made without my approval, I literally blew my top off to both my mom & my teacher.
Although I have aggressively demanded my name to be removed from the list, the chaperones insisted to
patronize me in working out at the gym aboard the ship. However, I simply refused; especially since my senior year in high school was insurmountably hectic, so I was obviously entitled to relaxation. I was patronized even more when the entire class was at the restaurant. I was having generous helpings of even the most fattening foods(i.e.:pancakes with strawberries/whipped cream, French toast, fried chicken, shrimp cocktail, ice cream & blueberry pie.). The moment I graduated, I vowed to myself never to in-
volve myself into any school reunions of any kind.
Today, however, is still an era for me to really be myself without yield to size or weight. I was actually brought to the realization back in early 1994 as I discovered NAAFA; an organization that actually helped
my self-esteem & persuaded me to finally egress from the carousel of yo-yo dieting. I am now keeping my chin up more than ever!
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From: Will
This is my story...
I'm really not sure how to describe my childhood. I've looked back at pictures from when I was 2 or 3 and thinking, "I was skinny." Throughout elementary school, I was always the biggest kid in class, both in weight and height. I don't remember much teasing from my peers, although I remember one day I was drinking a Diet Coke and this girl said "William's on a diet!" But, I don't remember getting much crap about being fat since I never looked overly large, due to my height. However, I think the change came between 6th and 7th grade. I remember being 5'9" and weighing 180 lbs. I always had to wear adult sized clothes, but I had the right inseam length. I started lifting weights, but then I started gaining weight. I think part of this came from moving from the city where I had all my friends and my basketball leagues, to the country, where I was far away from everyone else. My weight skyrocketed and the next thing I knew, I weighed 253 at the beginning of Jr. High Football. Unfortunately, I didn't try to get in shape and didn't play much in 7th grade. In 8th grade, I had only gained 10 more pounds, plus I had increased my strength, so I played quite a bit. In fact, we won the state Jr. High championship, so I was happy. At least I thought I was. I didn't have many social skills with the opposite sex, plus, since I lived way out in the country and had parents that didn't interact with many people, especially in our community, I ended up staying home, never going anywhere. I began to get taunts from classmates, but they never bugged me much. I did get jumped one day after school for saying I was going to participate in an intramural basketball tournament, but I think it was partly racial. Everything was ok until high school. That's when everything began to hit. Sex, popularity, power, money, drinking... Playing football for a school that was an annual state power was very stressful. Of course, I was put on a strict diet and heavy exercise schedule after I crested the 300 lbs mark after Christmas. I lost 40 lbs over the spring and was soon bench pressing 300lbs, but it wasn't good enough, even at 14. My ROTC instructor tried to get me to take phen-fen, but my mother refused. My coaches kept chiding me about foot speed and weight, but I just couldn't handle it anymore. Shortly into the next season, I quit playing football and working out. Within a year, I had shot past the 300lbs. mark again. I just didn't care. My weight was stable, school was going ok, and I had a girlfriend (my first). Then, suddenly, my girlfriend and I broke up in a very horrible manner, school began to crash like a building falling over, and I began to crack up. I ended up having to transfer schools my senior year to a small private school where all the senior boys ran cross-country since they weighed maybe 160 at the max. I did come out of "retirement" to play football again, but I just didn't care this time. As it came time for college interviews, my mother began to chide me heavily about my weight. Even though she herself is obese, I was still the "lazy good-for-nothing dumb fatass" and it didn't matter that she would eat a sack full of fast food, topped off by 2 bags of chocolate covered peanuts, I was still the one that made it difficult for everyone because I ate her "almost out of house and home!" Now that I'm away at college (on full academic and music scholarship without her having to pay for anything since I wait tables on the weekends) I just don't care. I still have plenty of dates (whenever I have time for them) and don't hear much taunting. (I just flex my muscular 20-inch biceps and they shut up) My mother still chides me about my weight, but now it's just for health reasons (even though I have better blood pressure and cholesterol readings than most of my skinny friends- and I can wait tables for 8 hours at a time standing on my feet and still dance all night long!) I'll let her keep up the charade for awhile, but the moment it gets ugly, I'm cutting myself off from her. I've already done it once, and I still keep a distance. She knows that next time I might do it forever.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I am a fat child. Every time I go on the scale I see those frightening numbers 2-0-1. Yes I weigh 201 lbs. It is sad for a child who is only 11 years old. I get called fatty, fatso and tub o lard. Sure I get hurt but its scary when I get hurt because some of the people who call me names are pretty fat themselves. I Am a male and I have big breasts. Terrible. Just Terrible.
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From: Reply to "Anonymous"
This is my story...
I just read the story from "Anonymous" on the page marked "others", and I felt really bad for him. When I was his age, I was a big kid , too. Anonymous, if you are reading this, I hope it makes you feel a little better that there is someone who knows how you feel. I grew up to be successful in business and I have a beautiful girlfriend. When you grow up and get into the real world, people don't care about your size nearly as much as when you're a kid. Start doing some activities you like and playing some sports, and you will be surprised how easy it is to lose a few extra pounds. Good Luck :)
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From: Mr. X
This is my story...
Over the years, I've realized that being overweight causes you to miss out on so many good things in life. Between all the jokes and the insults that I've gotten lashed at me over the years by many different people, I've had my self confidence greatly reduced. There was one time when I was in sixth grade (I was about 11 years old) and I was swinging on the swing set with my friend. All of the sudden, a kid who I had not even spoken to ever in my life walks up to me and says: "Hey fat boy, have another Twinkie!!". The boy then ran off, and on top of that, my friend sitting on the swing next to me started to laugh at me. When I was in 7th grade, my friend and I were walking home from school and were encountered by two other kids. The kids, who we didn't even know, began insulting my friend (he was made fun a lot as well, although he wasn't too fat, just kind of geeky). They then began to mock me. Supposedly, one of them saw me going on a walk with my older brother to get some exercise. These kids then said that I was desperately trying to get skinny and that I was too fat, blah blah blah, you get the gist of it. It just goes to show you how insensitive and immature kids can be, which causes them to be just plain mean. There have been several encounters like the ones I just talked about, some being worse and others being not so bad. The thing was on most of these occasions I was being made fun of by kids I didn't even know and sometimes by kids that I've never seen before. What hurt the most was being insulted by my family. On one occasion my mom got really mad at me, and in the midst of her yelling she shouted: "...and another thing, you're too fat!!!". My cousins, two in particular, have caused me to feel worse about my weight then anyone else. The thing is that I have always been so nice to them. I haven't given them any reason to get revenge on me in anyway, yet they have poked fun at me many times. The was one time where I was fiddling with my shorts, which had caused a snapping kind of sound. Then, one of my cousins joked: "Is that your bra strap?!". There was another time when I was staying at their house and some of my clothes where laying on the floor outside the room I was sleeping in. All of the sudden, I hear one of my cousins say: "Hey Curt, look at this." I then look over and see him holding my pants. It turns out they were laughing at how wide they were. These were some of several of their insults, and that doesn't even include all the times the have talked about me behind my back. I've tried to shrug my cousin's insults off, but I simply can't. They weren't some random kids that I didn't know, but my family. Next time I see them, (its been over a year), I will definitely state my resentment of their humor. I know I'm kind of whining too much, but unlike other people, I find absolutely NO advantages to being overweight. The extra pounds that I have carried has brought nothing but discomfort and bad memories.
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From: Jason
This is my story...
As long as I can remember I was always the fat kid. In school I got the usual remarks.
Fatty, Fatty two-by-fore, lard ass, whale. In junior high the kids took to yelling
Boom ba ba with every step I took. As a defense I would sometimes join in to make them
think that it didn't bother me, when in fact it always did. At 12 years old I weighed
195. I when I tried my first and only diet. The Richard Simmons Deal-a-meal diet. The
original one with the wallet and playing cards. That lasted about a week. Although I did
lost 10 lbs but Richard assured my that was all water weight in the manual. I did have some
friends in school all of them where outcasts like me. But I wanted to be a cool kid so I
played football. Finally I was getting the respect I deserved for everyone. Until I try to
join in to some of there clicks, Where I was even let in I was treated as the court jester,
There to amuse them but my freakish looks and funny antics. I didn't care I was with the cool
kids. I did see past that after awhile. Never the less I still played football. Hating every day
of practice not understanding what was going on, only playing on 3rd string If I was lucky. Still '
I did get some true respect from some kids because I did push myself even though I thought it was
pointless.
I was shy in high school. It seemed in my high school all the fat kids where painfully introverted
or annoyingly extraverted. I chose the former because I would call less attention me and my ugly body.
I became a science geek. I loved it. I was good at. All rocket lunching, Popular Science reading, Star
Trek collecting bit of it. I made me feel smart and powerful while have a extremely low self image and
getting only average grades. I Still played football and hated it, but I did find a new sport I liked,
Track. Of course I was a shot putter, and threw discus. I was a fat guy, but we all where. Finally a
sport I could do. I love it, I was horrible at it but I LOVE IT. I finally had a sense of accomplishment
and pride. I wasn't winning metals but I improved every week. I rest of school went ok. There where
classes I love and other I hated. The fat insults where few and far between. Maybe because of my sports
involvement, maybe because my self-deprecating defense of insulting myself before others could. Insults or
no I never did fell excepted. I was always very shy rarely talked to anyone outside of my own small group
of friends. I was pining away at girls from afar never having the courage and self worth to talk to them.
Therefore I never dated, never went to prom, never had the social experiences that one should have to prepare
them for life. In my junior year of high school I finally quit football and later diagnosed with dyslexia. I
didn't feel I got a lot out of the special education courses they put me in because I was to shy to ask the
teacher questions. A problem which I still deal with today.
After graduation I when away to college thinking this was going to be it. That was going to be my time
to shine. I would live in a dorm 24 hour a day house of partying. I always wanted to go to a party. I was
right party every weekend, kegger just a couple blocks off campus, or even a BS session in somebody else's room.
And I was in my dorm room staring at the ceiling or watching TV like I always did in high school back home. I wasn't
from any of these events. I just couldn't bring myself to go because I felt If I walked though that door all eyes would
be on me that people would whisper to each other and point to the freak fat boy screaming "Get him out of here." That
I could not have happen. So I politely turned down all offers to go. Soon the offers stopped coming and I blew my second
chance at learning my social graces and never made and lasting friends. I was a lack luster college student, few things
interested me there. My only solace was at work. I worked at a large discount retail store in the college town I was in.
I though my self into my work gathering carts from the parking lot and collecting garbage in the store. The managers there
said they had never had someone work so hard and so well collecting carts and garbage. When I was complemented and would
smile and try to be humble about it try not to call attention to myself. The store was filled with people my age customers
and employees alike and plenty of time to get acquainted with your fellow employees after the doors closed. I was well like
their because I was a hard worker so I could stand around and talk much because I had to work. I real reason was that I didn't
know how to start a conversation. When I try in grade school the other kids to call me a name and run away so how could I here.
After two years of the I dropped out, or rather kick due to bad grades, of college and moved back home. I enrolled in a tech
school and transferred my job at the chain discount store to one in my city. I decided to work hard to get my degree and I did.
I got striate A's in almost all classed and also took a few art classes that I enjoyed. And I worked hard at my job as usual. Never
cultivating new friendship. Why bother my old high school gang was still in town and still the best of buddies one could ask for. Us
outcasts went thought a lot together. Still to shy to talk to girls in a non-business way. But I was well liked in school and work
because I learned hard work brings you respect. That is what I was after all along, wasn't it.
Two more years go buy I graduate, quit the store and find a job out of town to a major metropolitan area. The only place I
could find a job in my field. I move out of mom's house and get my own apartment. Freedom at last. I work nine hours a day come
home and sit and eat gaining even more weight and adding to my already 50 inch belly. I got a second job to help get me out of the
house and to make a little extra money and maybe meet people. So I did. Most Of the people I work with are kind and friendly. I
haven't had a fat insult said to my face in years. I meet new people everyday, I'm good at both of my jobs but It's been a year now.
I still don't have any new friends I feel I can hang out with. I'm 24 and I never have had a serious relationship, I trying to pull
myself out of my seeming to be life long depression. And the only way I know how would be to be more sociable. I just can't get
over that wall of letting my guard down long enough to let people into my life. I fell If I do they would have want nothing to do with
me. Just like in grade school. And all because I was a Fat Kid.
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From: mohea
This is my story...
I am and always have been fat. High school was the usual torture chamber of fat and ugly, fat and ugly, over and over again. My parents were worried and tried to put me on a diet. I do not blame them, because what else was there for them to do? The doctor told them that was the only solution. Why did I had to have my food taken away? What did I do? In an effort to get me to exercise more, mom signed me up for modern dance class. There I was, short and fat, with the willowy thin dancers. The dance teacher (who was years ahead of her time) made no comment on my weight. She taught me to move and enjoy my body. Now at 250 plus, I do, every day. I also send up a prayer every day to Midge Kretchmer, wherever she is.
If your kids are "fat" or overweight or whatever. get them out there and move. They will bitch and moan and carry on, but once they discover how good it feels and how good they feel, they will thank you all their lives. I know I do.
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From: mystery advice
This is my story...
here is a tip Don't feel bad about being fat and kids won't make fun of you. It's as easy as that
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From: Becky
This is my story...
I never thought of myself as fat until my parents moved us to a "higher class" city when I was 13. I have 4 younger sisters and our parents wanted to give us a "better" life. We went to better schools and had a better house. But moving was the worst thing they could have done for me. The jokes didn't start right away. But I noticed that I wasn't as small as the other girls in my class. The jokes didn't really start until I was in high school. I started to feel ashamed of my body, and even though I had boyfriends, I was afraid to do anything because of my body. At first I didn't understand them. I knew that I didn't weigh 100 pounds, but I was still a cheerleader and I was active. I was 5'5" and I weighed 133 pounds. But the jokes still kept coming. One that will stay with me forever happened in English class. I was in my cheerleading uniform because we had to wear them on the day of games. Were watching a movie and the teacher asked me to turn off the light. As I got up, someone started making pig noises. My life has never been the same. I am now 26, and I weigh 180 lbs. My husband says it doesn't matter, but he doesn't realize that it matters to me. Because of the jokes of a few people, I am now forever ashamed of my body. I have gone down to 160, only to get pregnant and gain it back. I am afraid of what my son will think of me. My mother-in-law means well at times, but she has even made comments that make me run crying to another room. When I got my hair cut short for the first time, her comment was "you look like Rosie O'Donnell".....my comeback should have been a proud one. Rosie is a strong and successful plus size woman. But because of society, I am forever ashamed of the weight that I carry. Do people not realize the comments that they make stay with people forever. That even comments meant in good sometimes come out wrong and make us feel worse than we already do. I don't wish to be a size 3, but I want to be healthy. I want to see my son graduate, and get married. But the worst feeling in the world is feeling that you are not good enough for anyone because of a small group that left a HUGE impact on your self-esteem. I should be a stronger person but I am not, I should be happy with what I have accomplished in my life, but I am not. And all of this comes because people cannot accept others for who they are. The weight that I carry was not asked for. It did not come about because I am lazy, or because I do not eat healthy. I do. My weight is just me. For all of the times that I think that I am fat now. I wish I could go back to when I weighed 133 pounds. I would be proud of myself, and not have let others let me be the butt of their jokes. Maybe if I had stuck up for myself, I would be stronger now. But even though I have my down moments. Being with my husband and son have made me a lot happier. They both love me for who I am. Not for my outside shell. Thank you for listening!
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From: Adam's Wife
This is my story...
In my head, I've got a nice, vampy shape. I've got curves in all the right places, baby. In reality, I'm more apple shape than anything. An apple on toothpicks if you will. Anyway. When I was a kid (and more of a small peach on toothpicks, but still "overweight" to my peers) I was the fat kid. To compound this shame, I was also the smartest kid. Great, fat and smart...the two requirements to being the school reject/class joke. Actually, I used to be the subject of great debate: "Would you marry Sarah or would you die?" "Would you marry Sarah or would you eat poop?" "Would you marry Sarah or would you marry a boy?" My favorite answer had to have been "I would marry Sarah, but then I'd kill her because I don't want to eat poop." Nice. In 5th grade, I was the subject of many poems written by several small-minded boys. (My last name was the same as a famous dog starver from literature) They were about me and my supposed love for pigs' feet, because I was so fat (so fat! I was 5'0" and weighed 80 pounds!), I obviously had to eat everything, regardless of the grossness factor. I tried not to let it bother me, but I developed a serious eating disorder in middle school. Thanks to my mother's intervention, I gained most of the weight back in high school. There I wasn't picked on as much, but I didn't have dates either. I heard recently that one of my male friends had a crush on me but refused to ask me out because he didn't want to date the fat chick. Ouch. I attribute this lack of interest from members of the opposite sex to my obsession with being loved, something that plagued me until college. I was lucky, I caught a break. The last semester of my senior year, I dropped high school in favor of early admission to University. When I came back for graduation, I was forty pounds lighter and nobody recognized me. That was gratifying. Again, the weight came back over the course of a couple of years (with an additional thirty pounds) but I had made friends who liked me for me, and met a man who loved me for me. I found someone who actually loved me and would marry me. I have to admit that I'm a bit vain about my husband. He's very, very good looking and successful, and when I meet a former classmate, I always (even if I hated them) have to go up and introduce them to my husband. I'm still fat, a fact that bothers my husband (more because I am out of shape than my shape in general), but he's been around for my thinnest and fattest days and he still loves me. I am so blessed. I hope every fat girl out there is as lucky as I.
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From: gully
This is my story...
I've been fat since I was 8 years old. It just seemed to happen. I was a very active kid. But as the public censures started, as the whispered criticism began, I knew that I was different. I knew that people thought it was alright to make fun of me and ridicule me because I was fat and that meant there was something wrong with me. When parents, doctors and others discuss you as if you weren't there, mentioning diet, habits, etc., the situation worsens. I have always felt guilty for being me. I've been dieting since I was 8 years old. It doesn't work! I've tried more types of diet programs than I care to think about, spent more money than I care to think about. And none of it worked. Two years ago I started a program on my own of eating healthily and exercising. A back injury derailed that. Now after physiotherapy and mental work I have again started to live in a more healthy and active life. If people want to stare at the "fat girl" working out, I can't do anything about it, except to not let their opinions affect me. I'm feeling better about the whole me. I realize that this is about how you live your life. And I want to go into my senior years feeling well. I will always have the emotional pain with me. I can't change the past , so I'm working on the future.
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From: Alice
This is my story...
I don't remember ever being thin. I had to wear "chubby" clothes. Even our family doctor made fun of me when I went for my annual visits with my two thin brothers. He would call me fatty or chubby! I suppose he thought it would shame me into losing weight. To this day I have phobia about doctors. My self esteem was so low that I though no one would ever love me and at 20 married the first man who asked. He was an abusive, alcoholic, drug addict, which in some ways taught me that I deserved something better. I got so sick in this abusive relationship that I wouldn't eat and lost 40 lbs. in two weeks. I have managed to remain relatively slim by exercise and watching what I eat, but it's always a struggle. If people only knew the damage this abuse does. I am 46 years-old and no matter how thin I get I still think I'm fat. If anyone looks at me I think they are thinking I'm fat. I cringe when I hear my father say to my nephew (who is fat) that he would do anything that involved food. It makes me want to cry.
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From: Draft Horse
This is my story...
I was so tiny and thin at birth that the doctors wouldn't let me go home from the hospital at first. In fact, I was a tiny, thin little thing until age nine, when my body started "developing." I got a belly, hips, and large breasts --- forget the training bra, by age ten I was a B cup.
The first time I ever thought about my weight was at Girl Scout Camp, when my mom, who was volunteering there, introduced me to another mom. At that moment, the snap on the waistband of my jeans popped open --- I was growing out as well as up. The woman looked at me and said "Oh, so *you're* the little girl with the waistband problem." I remembered feeling stung, and not knowing why. But I let it go.
I never really worried about my weight until high school, even though somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware that I was different from the thin girls. But my family are very health and sport oriented, and since we all rode bikes, walked, played soccer, and hiked together with no problems, weight was never an issue. There was even one brief time when I was 12 that my figure was *perfect* --- and I didn't realize that, either.
Why did weight become an issue then? Perhaps it was just teenage awkwardness manifesting through something I could perceive and control. Who knows? Anyway, I remember feeling horrible and awful and fat because I weighed 120 lbs. I felt at 5'3", I shouldn't weigh over 100. I made a resolution to diet down to 75 lbs, because that was the "ideal" weight. That was what all the thin girls must weigh.
At the same time, my family were starting to have problems. I remember my mom and I were dieting at the same time, almost competitively. At one point, she weighed 103, and I weighed 104. I thought I was a horrible cow because I couldn't get to 103.
By the grace of G-d, I never got below that point. But I've been steadily putting on weight since then. I hit a high point of about 180 a few months ago --- which I found out in the emergency room, after having been up all night with gall bladder spasms. Wouldn't you know it? My 17 years of yo-yo dieting have actually done me some pretty serious long-term harm. Fortunately, no surgery was necessary. Things could have been a lot worse (my brother, who also dieted, lost his gall bladder because of it.)
Now I'm off dieting for good. I'm educating myself about nutrition, and returning to the active life I used to lead as a child and in college. Comparing me and my family to the "thin" kids at school, I see that it's not so much a difference between "thin" and "fat," as it is a difference in musculature.
I'm built like a draft horse: sturdy, strong, big. No one says Clydesdales are "fat" and Arabian horses are "thin." Arabians are beautiful, but so are Clydesdales.
My ancestors were built for hard work and lean times. In times past, wispy stick-girls wouldn't live through the winter. But modern life is making it so that the evolutionarily weak are succeeding in the gene pool. Where will this leave the future of our species? Makes me laugh sometimes at how stupid the human race can, collectively, be.
For now, I'm learning to love myself as a Clydesdale, instead of trying to fit into the Arabian saddle class. In fact, there is an entire organization, Team Clydesdale (http://www.teamclydesdale.com), comprised of elite, world-class athletes who are made big. Large people, obese by the height-weight charts, but who nonetheless have achieved elite status in marathon, triathlon, cycling events, swimming, and other sports --- and that's elite by *everyone's* standard, not elite meaning "pretty good for a bunch of fat people." They don't have Clydesdale/Athena classes for martial artists yet (this is my sport), but with my agitation, perhaps they will soon =)
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From: No Romeo
This is my story...
My parents divorced when I was 5. Some of my earliest memories are screaming, fighting, contempt, infidelity, revenge...
I never saw my mom after that. Dad was an inattentive workaholic. I grew up with this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was somehow partly to blame for the divorce and complete severance of ties from my mother. There was no affection in my home and I learned to spend a great deal of time alone. I remember the moment I lost control. I had just turned 7. I opened a jar of peanut butter while I was alone in the house and dad was at work. I remember vividly how I devoured it and felt surprised by the compulsiveness in this act. Years later I learned what the word meant as I had a full blown obsessive compulsive disorder. Guilty feeling from the divorce as well as insecurity over my weight led to more and more involuntary solitude. I never had a date in high school. I hated myself and was taunted relentlessly. The thing that keeps me breathing is my desire for love and intimacy. I've never truly had it but it looks so nice in the movies. I lost weight after high school and married the first girl I could find. Needless to say that was a mistake. I gained some weight back and she left me. So another divorce separated me from the women I loved. This time a wife and daughter. I've been fat and alone ever since. 11 years. I sleep alone. I eat alone. I sit at home alone... Its maddening. I try to be social. I have friends. But I never meet a woman that shows the slightest interest. When I show interest it ends abruptly and embarrassingly - every time. I feel totally lost. Being fat has ruined my self esteem, my social life, hindered my career and devastated my love life. Not the life I dreamed of.
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From: Lynne
This is my story...
My Friends,
I, as most of us, could write a book related to all the pain that comes to those of us afflicted by obesity. It is, I believe, a disease that we have no choice in the matter. It is part of the cards we were dealt, so to speak. I spent 35 years overweight. By the age of 35, I weighed in at 310 lbs. Hurting in every aspect of the word. I had been on every diet, fad or otherwise, known to man. I decided to have the Gastroplasty surgery done as a last resort. That was 3 years ago, and today I weigh 110 lbs. soaking wet. I have no skin hanging ( That shows ) and people that I choose to share the story with don't believe me. I have to show before and after pictures and then they say "That's not you!" In the before picture. Well, the reason I'm telling this is because guess what? The hurt doesn't go away! They didn't operate on my brain. Even though people that never knew me before, say things like "You look so pretty Lynne. I wish I was small like you." These are people I work with now that have no clue where I've been and what I bring to the table. They say "How do you keep that cute little figure?" And on and on. Sure these are all nice to hear. And for all my life I dreamed of what it would be like to be "Normal Size" and be accepted. Well the truth is, all that pain from 35 years still haunts me. Remember that the grass is Not always greener. Count your Blessings not your calories!!
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From: anonymous filipina
This is my story...
I was very fat. my fattest was at age 14 when I weighed a whopping 210 pounds! my schoolmates would often tease me and makes me feel out of place, different, a laughing stock. at first, I never cared, but as I mature, it would hurt deeper and deeper till it really marked my heart. At a young age I felt so abused, unlucky and all that despair anyone could get, I remember the nasty faces of the boys who used to laugh at me during summer class, and everyone staring at me as I walk, I felt like dying those times. I would often cry, I wonder how I managed to survive all those nightmares. now, 16 I lost 65 pounds all by myself, naturally more on crash diet. all because of grief, yes, I lost weight but I'm still unhappy, I feel like its still the same, my friend told me that my attitude changed since I lost weight. but they r wrong, this is the real me, I still feel different thou, they probably think I'm boastful of bragging coz I lost weight, some would even spread I used diet pills. heck no! I started to see darkness again, I want to shout. I did not change. all I need is true n sincere love I never ever felt from anybody till now. I'm so lonely, y cant I just live normally? that's all I want.
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From: Jess
This is my story...
Hi, My name is Jess and I am 13 years old. I weight 120lbs and I can't stay on a steady diet! I am tall but for me I have the biggest stomach for a girl! At school I was nominated for the biggest belly! Sometimes I try to think that I am like everyone else but I know that I am not! I have had many boyfriends but All they did was look at my face and ask me out! I know that when a person looks at your face and decides that they like you for your looks that it a bad think! But something did turn out right for once, I have a steady boyfriend that I have been going out with since May and he said to me after I have asked him if he thinks that I am overweight, he said "I will love you for what ever size you are but I love your personality and good looks." That is my story and I am proud that people can except me the way that I am and not look at my stomach!
~Jess~
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I loved to roller skate when I was in 3rd grade and when I was at a roller rink near my house (in tights and a leotard with a skirt on it) I heard someone call me a cow. I have now quit a sport that I love because someone said that I looked like a cow. people don't think before they act and many people are hurt by that. one day I believe that they will stop teasing and then everyone will be happy.
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From: When will i be perfect
This is my story...
Well I have always been a very beautiful and cute baby, in fact I was skinny, so skinny my mom thought there was something wrong with me when I was a baby that she even fed me extra, then when I hit the age of 9, I started to be chunky. I was always excepted into "the popular group" but an outcast in that group, not all the girls approved of me because I had the beautiful face, but the big belly. Middle school got harder, and seeing all the other girls with boyfriends and stuff really made me mad, so I started turning to drugs, I got out of school and went to a special program for "bad kids" there I didn't have time to eat as much and dropped 10 pounds. At this program, I had my first true friend who I still talk to , and my first boyfriend. it made me feel great to have someone love me, after we broke up I thought it was because I was too ugly and fat, so I began to starve myself 7 days at a time, now I'm in high school, I'm almost at my ideal weight, I have friends, boys that like me, then I got expelled and gained 20 pounds, school is right around the corner and I'm not eating and exercising to take as much weight as I can off, my face is getting acne, I am now 15 going into 10th, and have had suicide thoughts, attempts, just everything, I'd just like to know when am I ever going to be perfect?
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From: Steph
This is my story...
I started reading things on this website because of something that happened to me at work today. I guess I thought it would be healing to me to read the stories of others who could understand. Anyway. I will start at the beginning...I have always been fat. I was fat as a child and always teased. I got the usual moo noises and taunts. I was called whale and fatty and all sorts of things. It caused this pain in my heart that runs so deep, I know it will never go away. I actually lost weight in high school, dropped 75 lbs. I was thin and it was amazing the amt of attention I got because of it. I still felt fat and ugly. Once your self esteem takes a beating like mine has it never recovers. I dated a lot and had a lot of friends. But somehow it never made up for those people who felt it necessary to point out my obesity to me (as if I didn't already know). I of course gained all my weight back in college. I still have it all too. I am 5'7 and weigh 260. I got married 2 months ago to the most wonderful man ever. He loves me unconditionally and never ever mentions my weight only tells me I am beautiful. I have a successful career and a family that loves me, But those fat comments still haunt me. When I got married I decided to diet again. I have lost 15 lbs and have been getting so many compliments. Then today, at work some jerk old man decided to call me " that old fat girl" and proceeded to let everyone know who he was talking about. Now the fact that he didn't know I was listening does not excuse it. But I have been crying all day off and on. My husband was furious at this man's ignorance and has tried so hard to console me. But it was just like all those insults came flooding back from my childhood. My heart still breaks. And I know I can lose my weight and I will.. I have done it before. And that might stop the cruel remarks.. But it will never, ever take away the hurt. My heart aches for others in my situation. I wish that people would see us for the person we are inside, and love us for that. The only thing that has helped me at all is becoming a Christian. Since I have become closer to God I have found acceptance, completely. God loves me no matter what... and after all isn't He the only one who REALLY matters?
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From: Sharen
This is my story...
Beautiful evening in new Orleans. We went to the house of blues, wandered around the funky art shops in the French quarter, had our palms read, went to the French market and we loved each other. Sun setting over the river, with the paddleboats floating, next to the man I love holding hands and it was the most magical day.
Then my perfect day was knocked into the mud as a carload of drunken frat boys drove by and screamed "fat ass" at me laughing like howler monkeys and threw a beer can in my direction. Every nasty memory of bullies from high school came rushing in at me. Every snicker behind my back, every moo, every comment, every lonely lunch, every sticker with nasty sayings put on my back, on my locker, on my car
every boy I had a crush on who made fun of me, rivers of tears came over me like a flood in that moment. Then the man I loved looked at me, like he just realized he was holding hands with an alligator he let go of my hand, and backed up a step. Outside I looked mad, inside I crumbled like a 100 year old newspaper. As this man who fed me pralines at the French market an hour before said, you could lose a little weight you know.
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From: Flat Fatty
This is my story...
I am a thirteen year old girl. most ladies my age are thin and have some signs of becoming a woman. Well not me. I'm 158 pounds and I have NO chest. one day in the dressing room the popular girls looked at my bra size and the started laughing. "your not even an A YET!!!!!!!" they all laughed. now they call me flat fatty. I can hear the words echoing while I lay in bed at night. I cant help being flat. I just want to be thin. if anyone knows any way that I can loose weight please reply to this. thanks
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From: Fern
This is my story...
I was fat since inception, weighing almost 10 pounds. As I grew older the weight just kept rising as well as my height. By age 11 I was 5'8 and weighed almost 200lbs. I was not very happy to say the least. Nonetheless I took pleasure in the comfort of eating to fill up the void. Everyone knew my weight had crippled me socially, but no one extended any favors to help in the least. I was alone and understandably so I had managed to exclude myself from all those I truly loved. I was extremely depressed and found comfort in the Lord. I understood that food was not the problem I was and that something needed to be done quickly. The years passed and with determination and perseverance I managed to lose a large part of myself in the process. Today I live a much more health conscious lifestyle continue to obsess over my weight even though I can be easily carried off by a strong gust of wind. I hope that you the reader understands that I had to greatly condense my story and that losing any amount of weight takes a very long time. I paid my dues and it shows. Never feel like you are alone in this battle just keep a head up and everything will turn out fine. Feel free to seek the Lord he always welcomes a new soul. Thank You and God Bless you and America.
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From: Beky
This is my story...
Okay I was sort of fat, when I was younger, I was 140 pounds in 5th grade, I find that sort of chunky. But seriously if you are one bit overweight, the kids around you will notice. I wasn't picked on, but like, when no boys even ever considered going out with me, and just feeling like you are an outsider, hurts more than anything. I hope that I don't sound air-headed. I have since lost weight, and feel sort of happy with my weight. I used to dream about being as skinny and pretty as the young girls at my school, and now I am, and I am not happier than I was before. I remember being chunky and so unhappy, and I feel like I wasted all of my time, all of my childhood worrying and complaining about my weight, and that really sucks, I should have enjoyed my childhood, but I didn't I just thought that I was fat. And I was also sort of dorky, I had a mushroom cut hair due and as I look back on pictures of myself I just have to laugh. And I remember one incident where I was on the playground at my school and me and my "dorky" friend wanted to hang out with the "cool" group, but they told us to leave. That sounds dumb, but I bet if I was really good looking and really skinny that they wouldn't have said that. And I just always have these flashbacks of when I was younger and they make me feel so sad and lonely and depressed. But I can't take back all of those years when I was fat, I have to move on, and I try, but it will always be with me. And I try NEVER ever to judge people, if I see a large boy, I will go up and talk to him, or a larger girl, I will just go up and talk to her, I really hate people who judge others for what they look like. But I find myself doing that, and I hate myself for ever judging people because of what they look like. And I want to apologize to anyone who has ever been hurt before by someone who was picking on them, those people will pay, or they will eventually feel your pain. I want to tell all of you , to just try to live your life to its fullest. Don't ever waste it, and don't ever get hurt by someone's ignorance. I hope that you all can understand this.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I have always been close with my family. I have only grown to admire my parents and my brother more with age, they are loving, supportive, funny, and the cornerstone of my confidence. And it was my admiration for them that made it difficult when they pointed out that I "needed to lose weight."
Since I was young, about seven years old, my weight was an open subject. As kids began to make fun of me for being fat, my mother would say, "don't come running to me when they call you fat" when I would eat French fries or ice cream. But that is exactly what I did when their taunts inevitably reached my sensitive ears. And my mother would never be able to stand behind her words...she couldn't be cold if she tried. She'd hug me and tell me that everything was okay, and would privately cry herself because she couldn't stand to see me so hurt.
Though it certainly was not meant that way, I always took my mother's tears as a tangible indication of disappointment. She cried not only because the other kids were making fun of me, but because by being fat I was less than what she envisioned of me. I was her pride in every other way. But I still was fat, still insecure and sensitive about it, and still vulnerable to the other kids.
It is true that everybody is insecure in one way or another. But being overweight is different. Having your biggest insecurity on display for everyone to see is amazingly vulnerable, especially when you are a kid. It's like a bright beacon saying, "Hey if this kid threatens you in anyway, makes you look dumb, does anything you don't like, etc., just call him fat and you win the approval of everyone else." Many kids found that temptation too attractive to resist.
In the past three months, I am now 24 years old, I have lost over 50 lbs. I have another 50 to go. But already I see the differences in the way people react to me, especially those who are meeting me for the first time. There is no longer that "fat dork until proven otherwise" attitude offered me. It is a sad fact of life, but true nonetheless, that the fat kid remains the fat kid, all the way to adulthood. I myself managed to overcome it in certain ways, and become a popular, well-adjusted kid in high school and in college. But still to this day, when a person first meets me, I have ten more hurdles to across before they offer me the easy acceptance someone with a 30 inch waist gets immediately. And still, after all this years and all I have accomplished and risen above, there is that fat kid inside who is hurt, and who knows how vulnerable he is.
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From: Simona
This is my story...
First of all sorry about my English, is not so good. I was fat too, not extremely, but fat. Since I was 7. I'm from Romania and here is exactly like elsewhere, fat kids are ridiculed, people make jokes about them, they call them names. Now I am 30 y old and still fat. In January 2001 I had about 255... (about 114 kg), now (Jan2002) I have 204 (93kg) and going down. What I realized over the years is that what really is important is not how everyone feel about you but how you feel about you. And more important is your health. Last year I was diagnosed with a diabetes, I also want to have a child but, because of some problems with my ovaries, due to my weight, I can not. And now I regret that I didn't start to lose weight when I was younger and lighter. But, most of all, I understood that the real health I gain by loosing weight is that of my mind (you know, I'm not anymore so self conscious, so afraid of what others will say about me).
To conclude, I want to encourage all of you to do what's best for you each, to stay open minded, to learn as much as you can and to be happy no matter how fat or thin you are! Be happy!
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From: Sad
This is my story...
I am almost 12 right now and I am 5'1. I weigh 130 lbs. I don't look that fat and I have been getting taller so I am stretching and getting skinnier. No one jokes be about it or anything. But I am going to starve myself so I will get skinny. I am going to weight 100 lbs or less my summer so I can wear a two piece bathing suit and walk around in it at White Lake in front of boys with out being shy!!!!!
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From: someone
This is my story...
I was fat all my childhood until age 14. then I starved myself down to 49 kilograms. I was anorexic until age 16. then I gained weight and became bulimic. I lived horrible 2 1/2 years binging and purging. I am now 20. for my mother, weight is all that matters. After an extremely successful first semester in a foreign University, she refused to greet me at the airport, because I was "looking like a pig". my mother had called me all insulting names known to mankind. It was her fault I started starving myself. She was so happy when I lost 25 kilograms in about 6 months. I have never been an outcast, because I always preferred to be alone, but I am very witty and charming and popular. I was popular even while fat. My mother's attitude is what is haunting me for years. Now I have normal weight and only 6 months ago I forced myself to tell my mother the truth about my "beauty". Ever since she had never mentioned the word "diet" in the house. So now I am beautiful, but so what. I don't have a boyfriend and barely some real friends despite my popularity. Talk about weight making happy.
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From: Francesca
This is my story...
I'm not fat at all but I am very emotionally mature I'm only 12 in 1st year high school and EVERYONE worries about their weight even if they are as thin as a piece of string. I totally feel for these kids and I hope they can ignore these bullies who tease them and so on its unfair and horrible and I wish them good luck. I would never tease or bully anyone because of their weight and if I did without thinking I don't think I could forget it. Anyway I hope you all are happy now.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I am 12 yrs old. I am the biggest in my class.
I don't care!
That's how most people see me. The thing is I've always been bigger. I was bullied in year 3. I've came last on races. But I've never shown any signs that I care. I'm a size 18(UK).
But I don't care.
WELL I DO CARE!
That's what people don't seem to realize. Once every now and then when I see the boy I like I wonder if thing's would be different if I was smaller.
This happens a lot but when I look at my friends my awards for being friendly and the 1 sport award for shot-put ( no running involved )
I realize I'm happy the way I am and no one can change me.
So to any other's out there...
Be happy and enjoy life at school, work or whatever cos you only get 1 life at least we don't spend it on diet's that don't work.
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From: Dana
This is my story...
I'm still young now, I'm in 10th grade and I'm pretty fat. Yeah I'm not that big, but big enough. I used to have friends in groups, now it's just two close friends. I used to because I was younger and it didn't matter as much. It's so hard going to the mall n seeing all the guys look at my friend, like stare her down. Not only do I put myself down, but my brothers, mother and acquaintances do. Whether they are kidding or not, there telling me I'm fat. Then when I put myself down I get yelled at, meanwhile they are thinking the same thing and then telling me that its not true, oh okay!... yeah well honestly I think I have an okay face..and it really hurts because I have potential. Any guy that talks to me thinks I'm some slut because I have a low self-esteem and I'm just easy. Sorry hunny! Yeah well I don't know I guess it could be worse, I just have a lot of problems to begin with and this is one I wish I didn't have to worry about. Why can't big be beautiful?
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From: SARAH
This is my story...
Up until puberty (10) I was an average size girl. But then puberty hit and it hit hard. I was the first girl my age group at school to go through puberty. I started getting fatter than all the other people my age. In 8th grade I weighed 200 pounds. By the 12th grade I weighed 250 pounds. I haven't weighed anymore than that. I still weigh around 240.
I can relate to all the stories about bullies, being teased, being picked last for teams, etc. School was Hell for me. No one wanted to be my friend. NOT A SINGLE PERSON.
Since I was kept being reminded of how fat and ugly I am I started believing that I would not be pretty enough or good enough at anything. Since I believed that I didn't try to get better (like what's the use anyway).
In the 12th grade a new kid went came to school, his name was Steve (he was skinny as a pole). He was the first person that made me feel like I was something special. He invited me to the Senior prom (me? at the prom, I couldn't believe it). The night went all right. He even asked me to be his girlfriend. I couldn't believe it.
Pretty soon the whole school knew that Steve had asked me out. It was terrible. he would get beat up, picked on, and teased a lot for going out with me. He even wound up in the hospital for a week because someone saw him kiss me on the cheek. Fatty Lover was spray painted on his car, house, and locker. It was terrible for us. One day we were talking in the gym and someone through a basketball our way and it landed on Steve's nose and knocked some teeth out.
A couple of weeks later Steve handed me this note in hall:
Sarah,
I don't want to be your boyfriend anymore. The other kids are being terrible to me. Don't take this personal. I still like you, but only as a friend.
Steve
I still have that note to this very day.
I am 21 and have never had a decent relationship with a guy. I honestly have to say that I wouldn't know what to do if I had a boyfriend. I honestly wouldn't know what to do
My dad EVERYDAY reminds me "If you would lose your weight boys would like you". I am about to give up hope and accept that I may never have a boyfriend.
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From: Mary
This is my story...
I am a fat person. As I write this, there are 140 pounds on my 5'6" inch frame and they all fit nicely into size 8 jeans. I can shop in a "normal" clothing store, I can go to the doctors and not have any possible illness blamed on my weight--"an ear infection? Impossible. You're just too fat" and I can go through an entire day without someone making a cruel comment about my weight. But I am a fat person.
I can tell you the moment I became a fat person. I was young, second grade perhaps? And I was a big kid. Through elementary school, I towered over all the other students. I look at pictures, and I wasn't a fat child. Chubby would hardly even work. I just developed VERY rapidly. I started menstruating in fourth grade, when I was still playing with Barbies. And I'd reached my full, adult height of 5'6" by fifth grade.
Anyway, that moment... I was outside playing with my cousins. One of them had a bicycle, which she was riding down the block. 8 or so, and energetic, I ran after her, up and down the block. So much of my life hinges on this moment: before it I was carefree, and had a chance of being 'normal'. And then, my older sister felt the need to bring to my attention a comment a neighbor had made in regards to me running up the block: "maybe if she keeps up with that she'll lose some weight".
Everything changed at that moment. My body, my physical being, my weight were being judged by others and I was made aware of it. And, oddly enough, my method of escaping this reality came via the fridge. I remember thinking if I was going to be a fat person, I might as well be as fat as possible. I have no idea why I thought that, but I did. And I ate through my childhood with a panic. The went from just a large child, to a chubby child, to a fat child. Between the end of fifth grade and the start of seventh grade, I gained 100lbs. During eighth grade I gained 50 more.
I started high school at 264 pounds. I remember the trip to the doctors for my school physical. The first thing the doctor said--my first trip to her office--when she walked in the room was not "hi" or "nice to meet you" but "my, you're fat". I pulled the paper 'robe' as far around me as possible and began to cry. I was not even a person to this doctor, my weight had some how taken away that right. I went through my freshman year of high school fat. Being forced to wear "old people" clothes, because they didn't make a plus-size 2x-3x for juniors. Having to have a "special" dress, because I couldn't fit into the choir dresses--sorry, they only go up to a size 22. Having gym teachers tell me it wouldn't hurt me to "lose a couple hundred pounds" in front of my peers. Having my peers ignore me, not even want to be seen talking to that fat girl--they didn't even bother learning my name. Having my mother hide food from me, having her trying to put me on diets, telling me that its for my own health, and overhearing her tell my sister how embarrassed SHE is by MY weight. I was just as fat, and just as tortured by it my sophomore year of high school.
And then, my junior year of high school, something happened. I was so sick of it. I wanted to be normal. I went on this crazy diet. For an entire 6 months, I ate a tuna fish sandwich everyday, and that was all. Every day at 3pm I ate my sandwich. I had no energy and spent most of those days in bed. Laying there too lethargic to move, and welcoming sleep if only because they'd ease the hunger pains. I have no idea how much weight I lost, because I didn't weigh myself. I was terrified to. Strangely no one seemed to noticed--or at least mention my weight loss. The latter part of my crazy diet fell over summer vacation and I spent the summer in this one pair of sweat pants and this one t shirt. When school started and I went to dig out my jeans, I realized they didn't fit. They were WAY to big. My mom and I went to the store and I tried on pants until I found the size that fit: a juniors 13. I remember being so happy when those pants slide on. I was now going to be normal.
But, it never happened. I equated normal with thin, I suppose, but I'll always be a fat person. For all they say about crazy diets, mine some how worked: I kept the weight off. I gain a little back now and again, especially in winter--five or ten pounds, but it's always come back off. There was a brief time where the scale went back up to 190lbs a few years ago, during an episode of depression, but again, it came back off. What NEVER LEFT was the humiliation of being a fat person. That paranoid, overwhelming feeling when people laugh when I'm any where near them--they must be laughing at how fat I am. That need, before I excuse myself from a table in a restaurant, to plot my 'route', making sure I'll be able to fit through certain areas. The dread of going to the doctors, the humiliation of stepping on a scale when I'm only there with the flu. The blush, embarrassment and silent anger and over comes me when people tell fat jokes in my presences. I can't escape it. It's so engrained in who I am. Regardless of numbers or dress sizes, I'll always think of myself as a fat person.
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From: Susie
This is my story...
My story is like yours (the others that I have read). I am now 35 years old and although my outlook has changed as well as my image there are days that block out all the strides I seem to have made. Those days are the days that appear like nightmares with their insufferable emotions and memories of no self-esteem. My family was always there not to boost me or make me see my self - worth , but there too goad and taunt. It was horrific! To this day I believe that the evil lies in our society that deifies youth and slimness as opposed to individuality and individual strength. There are so many layers to this situation. Today, when I see fat kids I empathize so much with their pain and realize that the more the parent, teacher, books, magazines tell them to lose weight the more the child WILL rebel and eat. I wish I had had a more holistic approach to my situation i.e. I wish my parents had negotiated me as a sensitive child seeing with adult eyes and allowed me the space to grow within myself and see my own beauty and NOT the beauty that they expected from me and accepted me ONLY once I was thin.
These days I believe in health and fitness and although a fuller figure I am by no means obese or consider myself ugly...I speak here of good days which luckily by now, far outnumber the bad days memory days no matter how hard you try the blame and self-loathing comes to eat you alive and the only solace you find is through the thing that you have hated for so long and now are trying to find peace with.
I would love to suggest that self-acceptance is what it is all about and that our society is literally screwed up when it comes to images of beauty. Freedom is a choice not a necessity that one has to adhere to find its grace. Beauty IS in the eye of the beholder but that should not let us off the hook as far as looking after oneself is concerned. A healthy disposition is better for one. It creates clarity and well-being and it is THIS which parents should instill in their children and not the FEAR of failure and diets and the look of others. Viva the individual - create your own strengths and don't be lazy about the process. Be pro-active. Be conscious of self. My parents and teachers NEVER taught me that. All that they shared with me was guilt about my appearance; how I appeared in opposition to everybody else; how I didn't deserve to dress nicely, to look nice ; to inspire and be inspired by myself and others.
And when I think about this all in retrospect I realize that actually being a fat kid taught me so much about my self and about life that no other lesson could have done quite the same thing. It taught me to look inwards for change - not outward. It taught me not to blindly conform. It taught me that others in higher positions are not always right. It taught me to appreciate other things besides the transient pursuits of the magazine culture - to appreciate art in all its forms.
So although the burden is still there and comes back to haunt. I am glad for the experience because I opted to change for myself and for no one else.
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From: Cody
This is my story...
I was seven years old and went to the circus I wanted to ride the elephant. I weighed 200lbs. All of the other children were lifted on to the elephant. When they got to me, the man said "Your a Big fella." He tried lifting me, shoving me, pulling me, and couldn't get me on. Finally the man on the ground leading the elephant said "If you can't get him on, you can't get him on. He's just too big." I slipped off the elephant nearly tipping the saddle, with 4 other kids on it, off of the elephant and just stood on the podium. I was too embarrassed to go back to my seat. I could hear the people laughing. Then the elephant came back and before I could do anything the man tried again to lift me on. I began to get red with embarrassment as the crowds laughter seemed to erupt. The man was making all sorts of unnecessary grunting noises and expressions when I finally just said never mind and stomped back to my seat. it was at that moment that I recognized that I had a problem and I had to get help.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
At age thirteen I weighed almost 200 pounds. I had been overweight since I was six. I can't really remember being "skinny" and that doesn't bug me. I have never really felt unliked as I have a lot of friends I just feel different and when I walk into a store knowing I can only wear certain things bugs me. But the other day I was in the change room at a store trying on grade eight grad dresses and when the sales clerk came out and complimented me before my friend it made me feel good knowing that fat people can be pretty too.
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From: Brandy
This is my story...
My story is not so much of a childhood one, but that of my present college life. Ever since the first grade, I was worried about being fat. I am petite and always have been, but I cried the day that the scale said 60 lbs. Now I am in college, and my stomach seems to be growing out of control, my boyfriend is always complaining about how he needs to lose weight and I just look at myself and cringe. My best friend claims she is really fat, and she has the same amount of fat on her as me, so what am I then? No one really says anything, but I know who they look at when the girls that look like they never eat and resemble Ally Mcbeal walk by. I feel for everyone on this site and just want to say that I would kill for everyone to look at the person inside of me, fat or not, and to take me for that. So that's what I try to do for everyone else, cause maybe that is what is gonna stop all of these horrible ideas that it is unpopular or undesirable to be overweight. If I give them a chance, maybe one day they will all give me one too.
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From: Corrin
This is my story...
I remember when I was in middle school years and I thought I was fat but I really wasn't as my friends and my loving boyfriend back then which I am married to. I cried all the Time I thought I was fat I looked at me self and cried. I went though depression didn't really eat. I was 5"9' like 90lbs, at that age I was suppose to be 140lbs. I thought I didn't have a eating probably but I did. but I started to eat in 10th grade. I am at a perfect weight and I love myself.
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From: Good Things about your fat
This is my story...
One day, in high school, the editor came and asked me for a quote. Then he asked if there any advantages to being overwieght. Well, you can imagine my response. "Are you kidding me? A good thing about this hell?" I laughed in his face. Later on, I started thinking "What did he mean by advantages?" So I started a list about the good things about being overweight and over the years some have added to it but here it is as according to now.
1. When playing "Truth or Dare" you know you won't
be required to make out with somebody you
don't even know
2. You can always break the ackward silence on a
date by pulling out the old joke of "Does this
dress make me look fat".
3. In sex ed you won't be required to wear that
ridolous "Pregant Stomach Suit"
4. When you grow up you can publish a book about all
teasing that the jerks in school did and become
a best-selling author and millionaire.
5. All fairy tales end when the teased smart kids
truimph and the popular kids are stuck at the
local Burger King.
6. You learn how to swim before anyone else.
7. You learn to defend yourself.
8. You learn to look past the exterior of a person
and look inside.
9. You learn not to judge people before you know
their story
10.All the teasing just makes you a stronger person
11. You learn to respect and love your body because
it is all your very own.
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From: marilyn
This is my story...
well i am 15 and my weight problem started about when i was in 3rd grade and i weigh about 270 now and im only in 10th grade i have had a really bad depression because people always seem like they like me but are embarrased to be with me i am really nice and funny but i guess i look diffrent no guys will ever stare or look at me. but i thought i could put it all to an end when i had slit my wrists and had to be taken to the ER
and i almost died right nnow i wish i had of died i cant deal with the pain and emmbarassment im so mad and sad with my self errrrr
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From: "Marty"
This is my story...
BTW, Marty isn't my real name. Marty is a character in a movie, and bonus points to those who can figure out why I chose that psuedonym. Hint: it won Best Picture in 1955.
Yep, amazing, isn't it? Seems that most of the stories on this site are from women or girls, but there are plenty of guys out there that deal with the hurt and ridicule of being 'disproportionate' on a daily basis. I'm 30 now, and 315 pounds, and I still deal with the consequences.
People have mentioned to me that they don't believe I weigh as much as I do, whenever somehow the actual mention of weight comes up. Granted, I'm a fairly solid fellow. While I do have substantial fat on my frame, there's a lot of frame, and muscle, there under it. Can't say that matters a lot, though, because it's the fat that shows.
I've always been fat. Never known a time in my life when I was anywhere near average. I was pushing 200 in sixth grade, 235 at the start of high school, 270 by graduation. On a 6 foot tall frame, that might not sound too entirely bad, but trust me, it was bad enough.
In middle school, I was the target du jour. Not only was I fat, I was painfully shy, having been raised by an absentee working mom and her parents (my grandparents) who were much older and very "hands off" types. As long as I didn't cause trouble, life was good. Was never allowed out to play with the neighborhood kids, rode my bike in the back yard, no friends ever came over, never went to any friends' houses, etc. Add the facts together that I was disproportionately wide and shy and socially sheltered, and you have all the ingredients for a miserable human being. Hi there. That's me.
Once I got to high school, I came to realize that "Fatism", for lack of a better word, is pretty much the only socially acceptable, nee institutionalized, form of torment and discrimination. Teachers and administration were no help. The same gang of popular kids were the most unmerciful from grade school all the way up. Before long, I began to embrace my fatness and use humor as a reflexive defense, whether or not it was appropriate. "Okay, the fat guy's here--lock up the fridge!" I'd say. Or, "here ya go, rub the Bhudda's belly for luck." Heh, some would. I would both delight and cringe whenever someone would bust up laughing at my antics.
I can recall one time, however, I let my temper flare. I got tired of hearing about how fat I was and how much of a dork I was and how much of a loser I was, and I carefully looked to see when the gym teacher's back was turned out on the track. Punched a kid named Scott in the stomach. There was a modicum of "ooh's" and "uh oh" 's when that happened, but mainly they were aimed at Scott, his friends basically telling him without words, "hey, you're gonna let the fat kid get away with that?" Scott clocked me in the jaw. The teacher never saw it or found out about it, Scott's dignity was upheld, and my torment went from daily words of abuse to being either ignored or looked at like a leper. Note to all: sometimes standing up for yourself, letting your frustration get the better of you, only makes things worse in the long run, even if there are no immediate repercussions.
I started off in high school playing football, hating every second of it. I didn't know the game, I didn't care about the game, I had no clue, but since I was a big kid, I was made to sign up for it by my eighth grade gym coach. Six plays into my first game my career was promptly shut down by another kid my size who landed on me, making me land on my ankles badly, ripping ligaments left and right. Still can't run worth a damn to this day. I got into theatre as a bit of escapism, but that only exposed me to more creative and theatrical insults whenever I tried to just be myself among them--I wasn't one of the 'popular' theatre kids. I found my niche, though, in tech. As long as I was building sets, rigging lights, running the sound board and light board, especially since no one else cared to or knew how, I was halfway respected. Unfortunately, this enthusiasm translated into a theatre scholarship at college, where I was soon exposed to just how cruel people can be when it's a refined art and subtle and expected.
Dropped out of college, worked around a few lousy jobs, long story short here I am now. Never had a serious relationship. Haven't had -a- relationship in nine years. Still make myself sick when I look in the mirror. Tried suicide once, didn't take. No remote signs of improvement in the future. No friends left outside of a few I know online. I won't be so simple as to suggest that being fat is the cause of all my woes, but it sure as hell never helped any. Also, I smoke now, started in college. Pack or so a day. I wonder which one will kill me first. I wonder...I honestly wonder...if I care which one kills me first. Not too many reasons to keep going, when you're trapped in a spiral of loneliness and heartfelt requests for a rope or a hand up are met with, "the hell is your problem? Come on, get over it. Save yourself." After a lifetime of scorn and ridicule and first-hand learning how 'normal' people are cruel and unforgiving, why would I want to save myself?
I realize this rant has digressed from a commentary about fatness into a general diatribe on misery, but b logically follows a. Save yourself if you can. Start young, work out, starve, throw up, whatever it takes. Don't give them a chance to start hurting you. Don't end up alone and ignored. Don't end up like me.
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From: Manda
This is my story...
This might be wrong! Im 14 yrs old starting highschool and i weigh 117! Im don't think im fat and neither does anyone else. I thought that i would just tell all you people how reading these stories has changed my mind about overweight people. I used to make fun of girls that there fat hanged out of there pants or you could see thier rolls through there shirts. I would never ever think about going out with an overwieght boy. And I still say that im fat and i need to lose weight. After reading the stories i think i know sorta how the people feel, even though i know i will never know the pain they have gone through or still go through today. Im proud of all of them and envy them for having the courage that i knew i would never have. Thank You!
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From: Grahams
This is my story...
My story is kinda different, I guess, from a lot of people's. And it's not because I've had some kind of miracle slimming and lost it all and become a thin-guy model everyone can adore. Nope. I'm real big now. I'm bigger than I've ever been before and I don't know particularly if I ever will get thin ... and I expect that I'm not going to be very good at losing weight on the diet that I'm starting now (my first). I've always been big. When I was a little boy I was never really all that little. Even my baby pictures show me "pumped up by a bicycle pump". When I was playing football or soccer or whatever with other kids, regardless of what age I was, I was always the biggest - or one of the biggest - playing. That went for everything. I'm just big-built. I was never thin and never expect to be. I'm strong and bear-ish. I didn't ever ask for that and never have tried to do anything about it. But I've also always been fatter than I should be. When I was really young, I was never really fat, really. I mean, I was big, but my friends didn't think that I should have been dieting. I'm 24 and a half now and don't know how to feel about my childhood anymore though, when it comes to what I should have been thinking or doing. My parents and brothers are all also big people. My Dad's at least 300 lbs and my Mom's about 200 lbs. But we're all just big and happy about it. Except me, kinda, now. Not because I think I should be thinner, but because I've always had this weird feeling that I wasn't even fat - that I was just supposed to be big. I was never picked on by anyone my age when I was little. I never had much trouble from older kids either when I was always pretty much the biggest boy around. Even my 3-year older brother Mark is smaller than me - has been since we were ten and seven. I was 6' at 12 and 260'. I was fat. I was definitely well-proportioned and strong too, but I was also really just-plain fat. I wish now that I could have had more problems with it, kinda. I grew up always the first to hit puberty, hit 6', hit 200 lbs., get hairy in weird places, get date-offers from older girls etc... Well, that last one could just be selective memory... But I was also never really interested in using my size for anything. I've wanted to be smaller and less noticeable most of the time. I've broken up smaller boys fights just by walking over a whole lot of times... I never started a fight or intimidated anyone intentionally. But I - a whole lot - wanted to just not be so big... but I just ate along with my family as much as I wanted - as always - and I've always been pretty happy. I didn't get into sports in high school as much as I might have - I love football and, on top of a lot of folks telling me I had to play, I just am much happier doing other stuff with my time. I've got great friends that I grew up with and I've never felt like I was too big around, but I do know that I was always the biggest kid. When I was about eight years old, I remember actually being the boy that put all the scaredy-cat girls (and some boys) up in the treehouse in my friend Aaron's backyard at his birthday party - and then being too heavy for anyone to be able to pull me in or even want me to come up into it because the the treehouse was too full. Course, it was only a few feet off the ground, but I was totally flustered that no one thought I should go in. Sure, I got teased for being too big for stuff. I am now. But American society is all about the bigger-the-better in some ways. I don't remember ever really getting made fun of for being as chubby as I was. I used to have nightmares for a brief while when I was growing really fast in puberty that I was going to be too tall to fit in any building and too wide to fit through any door. As soon as I stopped growing so fast and started to level off on the charts - before I was even 14 - I started to forget the supergrowth paranoia and got into just plain being paranoid - about girls and whether or not they'd like me. Before too long, I had a lot of good friends in high school and I was pretty decently happy. But I never stopped gaining weight. And it never became an issue, really. I'm pretty athletic - I go hiking and climbing and stuff a lot. I was an active Boy Scout for the whole of my teenage years. Lots of fluctuations in fattiness. But I can think of four extremes in my life when I was pretty much a big fatty and not so much. I was a fat kid. Definitely. When I was about five, though I was a lot taller than the other kids my age, too, I was, for some reason, definitely too fat. I have absolutely no memory of being really ridiculed for it. I was on a soccer team pretty soon after and thinned up a bit. Then I was eleven and there's a picture of me at the beach with my brothers and cousins. We all look pretty hefty, sure, all the boys in my immediate family, but it's real clear that not only was I the biggest, I was also the fattest and my belly hangs right down onto my thighs in that picture. Cue the crazy roller coaster of puberty. I never have been as thin ever in my life, I think, as I was for a month or two in 7th grade when I was growing freakily fast and eating pounds a day like a mad devil when I got home from school. I never was really thin, though. And as I stopped growing up eventually, I've never stopped growing... even though high school was up and down in every crazy way. The superfreedom of the summer after I graduated from high school saw me hanging out with friends every night, practically, and always eating as much as I could at every joint and every occasion, period. I got to be 300 lbs for the first time then. I'm 6'5", so that's not as huge as it is, fat-wise, on some people, but no one ever made fun. And, even though I lost a lot of weight in college - especially in my freshman year (the Freshman Minus Fifty instead of the Freshman Fifteen, pretty much), I've never gotten anything like thin. And the fourth big fatty moment is pretty much right now and this past year. I'm probably nearly 350 lbs. I don't want to know exactly. My waist on my pants is 50" - finally I'm a true fat guy. And I still feel totally comfortable except for the fact that I know it's not healthy. I'm not only bigger than my Dad now, something that's been the case off and on since I was sixteen or seventeen, I'm just plain big. And I'm totally used to it. And I finally feel like, despite everything I've tried to keep it from happening, I'm not a just a big fat kid anymore - I'm a fat man. And it's fine. But I might just as well have been made fun of a lot for it growing up, cause I kind of want it to hurt more. I'm not even sure if this diet I'm starting is going to be anything new at all. I get lots of exercise. I totally recommend that to absolutely anyone. But I love to eat so much that I can't tell you how strange ambivalence over something so popularly frustrating as fatness is. I think I may have grown up just fine, but I think I might just as well have been tortured a bit. I always wonder what would have been better. I make great money, have great friends and great lovelife. I intend to raise my future kids to do whatever it takes to be happy.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I've never been that fat you know, but I still felt it because of the way society seems to be these days. My childhood experience always seemed to have the recurring theme of exclusion. Always being left out and always knowing that certain things in life were not open to me because of my appearance. Always knowing love and comfort that you really need if you're overweight is closed to you because of that very fact. I always felt that no one would ever love me and that I just shouldn't expect it since it wasn't something I actually deserved.
I was interested to read about the other stories that included beautiful skinny girls in them, making other people's lives a misery. I had a few of those. They seemed to have been put there by some higher power to take away the boys I liked at school and then later the men I liked. That's the worst thing because although you can tell they're stupid or just dull or whatever, and you know you're a way better person than they are, you also understand why the men are going for them and believe that you're not as entitled as they are to happiness.
Life is very lonely when you've got the constant burden of your appearance hanging over your head and making your feel like you don't even deserve the comfort you need. So after losing the weight, and now battling to keep it off, I think the only solution to the depression is to find others in your own situation, gain strength and support from them, and together, try to lose the weight. I think it's an important thing to do because it isn't about conforming, it's about being healthy in the long run and it's a very freeing experience to not be constantly aware of what you look like. Because once you reach a normalish weight, you stop thinking about it so much I reckon. It's hard and it'll take time but I think if you face it, that's a much better thing to do than live your life running away from it when you know you'll never escape it without a fight.
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From: Charity
This is my story...
I just wanted to write to all of the people who have posted their stories on this site. I grew up with a mother who was overweight and struggled with it for my entire life. She tried all the diet pills, drugs, and was treated for bulimia and anorexia. I see what an awful struggle it can be for a person. I have never had a weight problem nor have my 3 sisters but I have lived it through my mother. We are an extremely close family and live within 5 miles of eachother still so I could feel a lot of her pain. I just wanted to say that everyone is a child of God and we are all so special to him no matter what we look like or how much we weigh. Be happy, enjoy your life! My mom spent so much time worrying about being fat that her life was hell. She now weighs less than me and exercises daily. We are all vegan (we don't eat any animal products) and I know that this has been an incredible blessing to us. All of us have children and have gained some weight with pregnancy but I know that because we are vegan and we exercise we were able to lose the weight and be healthy. I just want to encourage everyone to be happy and try to find the wonderful things in your life and if you don't have any, find some! Life is wonderful and I wish you all the best of luck in yours.
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From: ChUnKy MuNkY
This is my story...
well you i've been fat for as long as i can remember but i could care less i'm happy with my life even though people say if i lost weight i would be so beautiful i dont care about being beautiful i've been skateboarding since i was 4 snowboarding since i was 7 and thats what makes me happy i've won many awards for those extreme sports and i've also won awards for playing the drums in a small band i'm in. people love me for who i am cuz i'm hilariously funny and i'm sumwhat cool so my fellow fat people dont feel bad for yourself
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From: Kimberly
This is my story...
I am known to all of my EX-FRIENDZ as fatty.I am fat and tall.Many ppl dont consider me fat because i am taller than every1 and u dont see much fat.I am an 11 year old who is 165lbs and 5'8.I am sad when ever i reread the things in my diary about ppl calling me fat and about me wanting to kill myself b/c of it.I am afraid i will turn out like my sister huge and lazy.I am really active and stuff i am no couch potato or n e thing.Well u see at school i am afraid of doing anything whether its walking down the hallway or reading a paper infront of my class i am afraid i will get made fun of b/c i am so fat and i get depressed over it too,i mean just because i am fat makes me depressed,sick,and suicidal.I think to myself that me being as young as i am shouldnt think about them things...but i do and cant stop it i think killing myself will be the best thing it will stop every1 from making fun of me.
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From: Shannon
This is my story...
I just sat here for an hour, reading the stories that others ahve submitted. Boy do they all sound familiar. I was a fat toddler, child, and now adult. My whole family is obese, so I always felt comfort arount them. They supported me, no matter what. School and friends were a different story. The first "fat" think i remember is in 4th grade. My teacher used to comment on how fat i was all the time. She made my life hell, but i refused to give in. All A's and B's that year. After that, there was always someone picking on me. I always had one or two friends, but in the back of my mind, i always wondered if they were really my friends, or were they just hanging out with me so they looked better. 7th grade- when i would walk down the hall, some of the older boys would moo at me. God that hurt. In high school, the older boys (again) would do things like grab my butt as i would walk down the hall, or say things that i will not repeat in here (children may see it). Fast forward to now. I am amrried to a wonderful man. He is also fat, but i dont see it. I see a wonderful man. I have always wanted to be the girl that everyone wanted to know, wanted to date, or at least, the girl that people thought was attractive. I dont like going anywhere new, because i am not sure how people will react. Just last month, I had 2 kids (teens) harrass me at a mall near my work. It brought back so much of my past, that i was in histarics when i called my husband. Crying on the phone, i told him what happened. He was upset, or course, but no matter how many times he told me i was beautiful, it didnt make me feel better. What worked, though, (lol) was a male co-worker of mine told me that i was never to go to that mall without him again. He would go, and beat up anyone that even looked at me wrong. Of course, he wouldnt do that, but to know that someone would stick up for me was one of the most wodnerful feeling i had ever had. My husband and I are trying to have a baby now. I want to lose weight, so tht it will be easier to conceive, but my husband tells me not to worry. My childhood years as a fat kid were rough, and my adult years as a fat woman are rough, but with the support of my husband, family, and the friends i have, I feel that I may survive. Thank you for letting me reamble, and please, disgregard any typos...lol
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From: Plump
This is my story...
It concerns me to read about the young people who want to loose weight. I understand I was there once myself. I was a size 12 in the 5th grade....now at 20 years old I am 5'4 and weigh in at 137 pounds. I am not thin..but have discovered I have diabetes and must maintain a certin weight. I love my body and have come to realize that after many years of thinking negativly. My boyfriend is a bouncer (in perfect shape huge muscles and all) and loves my "plumpness". He has tought me that you don't have to be thin to be beautiful.
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From: Bree
This is my story...
I am the kind of girl who is not that fat, but is still fat compared to everyone else. When I go out shopping with friends they always go into the small petite rows of all 0 pairs of jeans. But i have this one friend who is very unique in a way. She is one of the most popular girls in the school too. She tells me practiculy everything, which is good but in a way bad. She knows i am fat, but she won't say it. i even say to her face "i am fat, i really need to loose weight" and she always says no your not fat. which makes me feel good. But then i know she is only saying this so that she doesn't make me feel bad. you see se has these 2 other good friends that are also fat. one is heavier then me and she also says to me "got Lau* is sooooo fat i can't believe her parents let her get that big, she will never loose weight even if she trys with all her might" then she says about her other friend who is the same size as me "well *ria is not as big as Lau* but she is still big, she really needs to loose weight" and i am like HELLO why don't you just say it to my face then!!!!!!!! i mean how dumb is that!!! well i am trying to loose weight cause i really want to fit in!!!! i lost 3-4 pounds soo far, i was once 140 and now 136-137 and my goal weight is 115!!!!! and i am in 8th grade! this is my story about ME NOWW
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From: Little One
This is my story...
It all started when I was really little. Probably preshool. Looking back at old photos and pictures... I'm not what would be considered fat nowadays by any standards at that age. But back then, being overweight at age 4 or 5 was much more rare, especially in a rural community where kids still ran free and played outside all day long. I was very short for my age, but very, very muscular, making me look "fat" and I had a little bit of a belly. Let's just say I took after my Italian father.
I played sports, little league and soccar and yet the belly stayed, and the other children were quick to let me know that they noticed.
The real torment started in grade school. Whether the other children really thought I was fat or not is irrelevent at this point becase at age 5 I was by no means fat. The fact is that being called "fat" bothered me a lot at that age and I let it show. My weakness came through and the other children, like a pack of wild jackals pounced on it like a dying Antelope. I was an out of towner in a school full of townies, I was extremely short and had a little pot belly. A recipe for teasing. Even my own brother joined the fray. In the end even though I wasn't fat I believed I was. I also believed that I had no worth and that nothing would ever change that. I had no friends and no one to talk to. Even my own mother was too self absorbed to help me. When I told her that the other kids were picking on me and that it hurt me she just told me to "ignore it. their opinion doesn't matter" While this is TRUE it is awfully hard for a child with no friends to really trully believe this.
So finally I found a friend. Food. And boy did I visit that friend a lot and my parents did nothing to moderate my eating. All junk food was available to me any time I wanted it. I could come home from school and eat ten twinkies and my mother wouldn't utter a peep. As the weight piled on, so did the self hatred and loathing.
Junior high rolled around and I was pretty big. Not sure how big at that point. I would say maybe 150lbs maybe, but I was still short, at least a foot shorter than everyone else, minimum. The picking intensified. I joined the band... and the sad thing is that we all know that the band is full of outcasts and even they picked on my to make themselves feel better. There was no end. I was threatened, teased, tricked, humiliated, everything you can imagine, and more.
By my junior year of high school I was 4'10" and weighed 175 lbs. I had no lap. I was obese. On the night of my junior prom I put on a dress and my dad said, "Well now you don't look quite so fat, you almost look like a girl even" It was meant to be a compliment and at that point my frayed tortured mind even took it as one. I didn't have a date for the prom originally, but a "pal" of mine fixed me up with one at the last minute. I should have run screaming. Long story short, it was the most horrible night of my life. I went to the junior prom with the Marlboro man. I had hit rock bottom.
Then something happened. I lost weight. I lost about 30 lbs over the months of december and january my senior year and I looked quite a bit better. Some of the teasing even dropped off. Evne with this lull, my sense of self esteem didn't budge and my self worth didn't increase.
I went to college. Spent the first year in hiding, believing that by doing so no one would notice me and there would be no opportunities for my feelings to be hurt. Eventually during my sophomore year I made friends, but I was never really socially involved. They were nice and we hung out, but I held back and out of the main circle out of fear and a feeling that they didn't really like me, they were just hanging out with me out of pity.
Then, a diet. I lost a lot of weight and got in really good shape. I was no longer obese, but I was still over weight. I weighed 132 lbs at 4'10". I had boyfriends. But.... I still hated my self.
Today I weigh 120 lbs and decreasing (I'm on a diet) I'm 24 years old and I'm getting married in less than a year... but you know what? I'm still the fat girl. I still have he mantality and it is obviuos that no matter how much weight I lose the self loathing will always be there. I'm hyper critical of my looks and I still call myself fat even though, by most accounts of other people, I am merely chubby and soon I will probably be extremely average. I pcik on every part of my body and am never satisfied. One would think that someone who had lost 55 lbs and kept it off would have something to be happy about. I have managed to lose the weight out of an effort that was mainly aimed at changing how I feel about myself. As it turns out, I don't think thats possible. I can get skinny on the outside, but now I'll always be fat on the inside. Now when I look in the mirror and get irritated over the stretch marks that litter the landscape of my body, they serve as a reminder of everything bad. Not just of the teasing, but of the time I wasted in college keeping to myself when people really did want to know me and they really did want to hang out with me.
My fiance loves me as I am. He loves me at this weight, at any weight. I wish I could take lessens from him so I could learn to love me too. Slowly maybe I'll get there...
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I am "obese" in a matter of speaking. I am a Freshman girl in highschool im 5'3 and i weigh 250 pounds. as a kid i was always made fun of by everyone except for one realy nice boy who went to my school...well now that "boy" is my boyfriend and he loves me so much. hes no slim jim himself at about 5'7 160 but hes really buff (on the football team) and now noone calls me names cuz he is really popular and my bf. if anyone calls me names, he "takes it to them" if you know wut i mean...im happy and comfortable the way i am
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From: Deborah
This is my story...
I was born in 1953. Photos of me as a baby and toddler, and through first grade, show a normal-weight, slender child. By third grade, I had gained an enormous amount of weight; I remember wearing a loose-fitting "mumu" to school and being asked by a classmate if I was pregnant.
My mother and other female relatives started going to a "weight doctor" when I was nine. My mother took me along, and each week we weighed in and were handed the week's box of pills. It was only many years later that I realized these were primarily amphetamines. To my mother's credit, when she saw that I was shaking, nervous and crying for no reason, she took me off the pills.
An area that still bothers me for young women is that NO ONE explains to girls that as they go through puberty they WILL gain weight. Regardless of what weight they are as they enter puberty, Mother Nature will see to it that they gain weight in order to develop hips, breasts and sufficient extra resources needed to carry a baby to term. Knowing that this will happen and that it is completely natural might help a little bit with the weight obsessions that so many young teenagers acquire.
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From: Cindy
This is my story...
I was reading the stories of he overweight people and children, funny thing it was my father who made me feel so fat most of my life, and I am not fat. The most I ever weighed as a teen and early 20's was 128.
I am 5'2 and carrie the weight well. My father copied a picture from a medical journal of an obese woman and pasted my face on her body and put it on the fridge. I was never more humiliated than that in my entire life, it stayed there for almost a year. My father made me feel fat and ugly. I am grown, with 4 children, when my first child was born and myfather cameto see her his eyes shined, he wasso proud, I looked him in the eye at that moment and told him if he ever ever said anything mean or urtful to my children, he would have to deal with me. He never has. He never made me loose weight by his words or remarks and he still tries to make fun of me but I just look at him and smile and say Dad I am alot like you, but much nicer. I am not overweight, 3 of my children are but never ever would I ever call them fat or ugly. And it doesn't mean they will stay that way, my oldest son lost all his weight when he turned 15, all kids usually ain weight around 9 till around 11 or 12, then they stop gaining and start growing taller ans grow into their weight. My oldest is 18 she is lovely and overweight a good 75 lbs, but we have discussed this and told her 'If you are happy within yourself that is all that matters, you are old enough to decide how you choose to eat, the pro's and cons. People can be so very cruel, it is sad..believe in who you are, no that you are a good person .names hurt and trust me even as you grow up there will always be somebody that will put you down. but thats not your problem,it is their problem
they don't feel good about who they are. Stand tall be proud, and the next time someone calls you a name say
"And your point is?" Trust me it works every time.
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From: fat no more
This is my story...
I just want to thank all of you for sharing your stories. I was a fat kid as well, and often had thoughts of suicide. Even now, as an adult in my late 20's, I suffer the after effects of being a fat kid growing up in an unaccepting society. I'm bulimarexic (anorexic with bouts of bulimia) and am haunted by the memories of the past; the whispers, the snickers, the looks of disgust on the faces of others, and of course the physical abuse by the other kids. It really never goes away, does it? Anyway, being here and reading all of your stories makes me feel as if I'm no longer alone, which is quite a change considering that I spent my entire childhood alone. Thank you, and the best of wishes to all of you.
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From: anonymous
This is my story...
I started reading these stories because I was in a sad mood and felt like connecting with others. I recently met a really cool guy online and we totally hit it off...until we met in person and he found out that I was fat. I didn't want to tell him online, because I knew that he'd probably not even consider meeting me. I'm 20 and I've never had a boyfriend (just a lot of guy friends, my fellow fat girls know how that is). I thought maybe this guy would be the exception, he seemed so "open-minded", but he's been ignoring me online, so I guess I get the hint. Well anyway, I started to lose some more weight (i lost 70 pounds a few years ago. Maybe I'll see what life is like on the other side. As shallow as it may be, it would be nice to have a guy check me out.
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From: Emmy
This is my story...
I was a skinny kid until I was about seven. Then someone discovered that I wasn't eating lunch. School lunches were really gross, and I simply didn't want to eat them, but it was ages before anyone told my mother. When they did, she started to send me to school with a packed lunch, and that was when the weight started to pile on. So, at the one time in my life when I was thin, I was consistently missing one meal a day. Anyone who ever wants to tell me I 'could' eat healthily and be thin might like to bear that in mind.
I don't recall getting teased much at primary school (I'm in the UK) until I turned nine. I had boobs by then, and an aunt took me out and got me my first bra. It was more comfortable than a vest, but then I'd get the other kids pointing and laughing when we got changed for games, and the boys flicking the strap through my clothes when they passed me in class. In spite of the fact that Brownies are supposed to be kind to others, I got teased there too. When we went on Pack Holiday, I was accused of being lazy and used to get some of the other girls steal the underwear from my linen bag and throw it round the room after lights out. Also they'd try to make sure if there were games, I got put in a position where I'd have to do something physically humiliating. There was something called the Monkey Race - you had to raise yourself on your hands and feet, facing upwards - kind of difficult to describe, there's a yoga position like that - and THEN move yourself along in that position. Difficult and ungainly even for a thin kid, and your skirt would ride up showing your underwear. I would always get put forward for that race, and I'd try to make surreptitiously go missing so as not to have to do it and get laughed at.
By the time I was at secondary school, I was 5'5" and 140, and a British size 14. Not huge then, about average, but I still got tormented over it. We had to wear tiny little short skirts for gym, which was bad enough, but the school had to get them by mail order so we all had to line up and be measured by the gym teachers. They both took a dislike to me at that point, and from then on would take pleasure in forcing me beyond my limits - climbing ropes, or doing the circuit when I was almost passing out from horrendous menstrual cramps. (I suffered these a LOT back then. My mother and the school thought it was 'just part of being a girl' so it never got checked out and I could never get a note to get out of gym. Much later when I went on the Pill, the cramps vanished and have never returned.)
Also, there was dance class. I took an interest in ballet from the age of about 11 and went to local classes. I was the second fattest girl there, but I loved dancing. Then I realized that one of the girls, who went to my school, was snickering in the back room with her stage mother over how I looked in pink tights. Eventually, this went all round my school and I was having snide comments made to me by other skinny ballet girls. The crunch came when it was exam time, and me and the other fat girl got put down a grade. I thought there was genuinely something wrong with my dancing, although they'd said nothing before and I'd been there months - then, just as THAT grade was due for an exam, it happened again. Then that went round my school too, and it came out that the teachers didn't want fat girls spoiling their lineup in the eyes of the examiners. I made my excuses and left.
I also desperately wanted a dance part in the school play. One year they picked a play with dance parts, and I was eager to audition, so I asked the gym teachers, who organized that side of things, when it was going to be. She said they were going to organize it and they'd let everyone know. A few months later, a list of the people rehearsing the dances came out. I asked when the audition had been, and I was told they'd decided not to have one, just picked the people they 'knew' were good dancers. Needless to say, the people they picked were all thin - and most of them knew me, knew how much I'd yearned to be in that play, and were laughing in my face about it.
I remember asking my mother if I could go on a diet when I first started getting fat, but she said it was just puppy fat and I'd lose it later. Later on when I was still 'big' in her eyes, she turned round and started blaming me for overeating and sitting too much. She was always saying how chunky my thighs were, how I should walk five miles a day, how I was definitely going to get diabetes when I was older, and how men don't marry women who don't look nice, or they leave them if they 'let themselves go'. I never had many boyfriends, but I honestly believe it was more down to lack of confidence than anything else. I was sent to an all-girls' school, taught to regard men as sort of alien beings, I was painfully shy and I think I was kept deliberately naive about sex and relationships (my mother said after my divorce that she'd never expected me to get married!). I was taught that if you looked nice the boys just naturally flocked to you, and that the fact they didn't 'proved' how awful I looked. When I did gain confidence a little later, I was over-demonstrative enough that I frightened guys away. I wish I'd had someone actually guide me through that whole emotional minefield, and tell me that how I looked actually wasn't that bad. Because it really wasn't.
I hate the expression 'Children can be so cruel', by the way. They learn their cruelty from adults. The fact that teachers were behind a lot of my persecution tells you that, but I've also been bullied for my weight in my adult working life. I had a whole office of people who'd previously been friendly to me ostracize me once when two new girls started and decided they didn't like the fat girl. They referred to me openly on the phone, in earshot, as 'that thing'. And they once planned a lavish Christmas party for everyone in the office - barring me, the boss and one older lady - but under our noses so we all knew what was going on. The boss was also fat, and also the brunt of their 'humor' - they used to call her names, make up sexual rumors about her and go through her bag when she was in the bathroom - but because they'd made up lies about me, she believed the bullying I was receiving was my own fault, and nothing was done about it until they left.
And speaking of adults who should know better, my mother has still, all through my adulthood, continued to pick at my self-esteem and tell me how fat I am. She has always been very thin. My adult build takes after my dad, who was bigger. I'm not quite sure what she expected, but get the impression I was 'supposed' to be thin and dainty and live on air, with the occasional ice-cream sundae (she's the real refined sugar freak!). But then, she's one of those people for whom nothing I do is ever good enough, so I steer clear of her as far as possible.
I'm 39 now. I eat healthily. I don't take as much exercise as I could, but I'm working on that. I have a good job, a wonderful husband who loves me exactly as I am, and plans for the future. I'm a size 18, and I don't know how much I weigh because I refuse to have scales in the house. And my heart goes out to all of you poor kids - past and present - who've been hated, reviled and persecuted merely for being fat. Many of you have had it far worse than me. I want to give you all a big hug and the reassurance that you are beautiful, worthy people, that you are stronger and braver than anyone could know, and that there has to come a time when we no longer allow this kind of hatred to continue.
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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
I was "fat" all my life, and was my older brother's been fat since 3rd grade, too. All my family was overweight except for my dad. And so's my best friend, Alicia.
But one time in 4th grade, I had the 2nd worst day of my life. (The 1st one's a different story, it has nothing to do with me being fat or anything)
But anyway....
This was Girl Scouts, believe it or not.
One of our leaders Mrs. Smith's grandmother died, so she didn't feel like having a lesson with us. And then she told us we could play outside for the whole meeting.
There were 7 girls in the troop, including me. There were two twin girls, Susan and Beatrice. Susan was the bratty one who always complained. Beatrice was the "nicer" one apparently.
There was also Tina, who I liked and was nice to me.
Then there was the most memorable one, Gail. I was best friends with her for years until that year she was soooo nasty to me. She was a brat, too.
Then there was Christi who was really quiet.
And finally, there was Zoey. Everyone hated her, and she cried at EVERY SINGLE MEETING for what the other girls, especially Gail, said to her. She stood up for herself, or at least she tried to. And when I went to Girl Scouts, it was me, Gail, Zoey, and the other leader, Mrs. McDonanld. (Gail's mom)
But anyway, we go to a church thats right next to Susan and Beatrices' house. She has a golden lab dog, Fluffy. And I am scared of dogs.
She had this tire swing that each girl took turns on. This is the worst part.
Finally, it was my turn. I was able to get on the swing, when all of a sudden, Fluffy started going crazy. He ran around and around and starting bumping into the tire swing. He almost knocked me off.
I was terrified. I screamed as loud as I could, and Mrs. Smith's husband ended up taking the dog away.
After that, I saw some of the girls staring at me and whispering.
I walked up to the stump where Zoey was sitting. She was the only one who wasn't doing anything. I asked her if they talk about me, and she said "Yes." And then she told me all of the mean things that they called me like "Fatty" or "Fatty Girl".
I was crushed. I didn't cry until I went home and started sobbing as soon as I saw my mom.
I never went to Girl Scouts ever again that year.
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From: Nanasha
This is my story...
I think it started out with the "Chubby Cheek Contest" when I was a baby. I had huge chubby cheeks. My mom always told me how I looked like a china doll as a baby. When I got older, I never really paid attention to food or what I ate. I remember that my mom was very strict about licking the beaters when we made cookies (a rare occurance). Overall, when I was a child, I was a "chubby" kid but never fat, and always active. However, I started developing breasts around the 5th grade and I thought that it was fat. I was terribly embarrassed about them and used to wear huge formless t-shirts which made me feel like I was much fatter than I was. To compound it, my mom was this thin little blond woman who always did these exercise tapes, and she encouraged me to do them too. I always thought that they were silly, but she praised me every time I did it with her, so I felt that I was "good" for doing it. We were from a "clean plate club" sort of family, where my mom would make food from scratch and make us eat the whole thing. It wasn't until I was in junior high or high school that my mom started treating me like I was fat and unattractive, and I believed her. I believed that I was disgusting and horrible and that I should just kill myself. That was around the time where I broke my arm, which laid me up in the hospital for a long time. The reason I broke my arm in the first place was because I was on the top of the bunk bed thinking about how fat and gross I was and how no one would (or could) love someone like me...and then the railing fell out from behind me and I fell backwards, twisting and snapped my arm in half. After the surgery (I had severed a nerve and needed several), I still hated myself, but I vowed to add more activity to my regimen. I also started journaling my day to day activities. There are a LOT of entries about my fears and hatreds revolving around my self image and fatness. To me, the idea of being fat was coupled with feelings of anxiety and fear of not being loved or being attacked. In response to this (or perhaps despite this) I became a very strong and outspoken person who always stood up for my friends, especially if they were shy or less able to speak for themselves. I always had a huge amount of friends, even though I hated myself because I felt that even though I was fat, I should not bring up the fact that I was fat to everyone else because it would just bring them down. So I started biking everywhere, and I joined various sports. I also took PE for every year of high school, even though I was not required. I always gave it 110% and the boys would always want me on their team (unlike the other girls) because I tried hard and pushed myself even though I was fat by my standards (no matter what I did, my mom always said I could always lose 10 pounds). I realize now that I wasn't fat as much as I was just sorta chunky. I was never a bikini babe, but I was mostly muscle and large breasted (which made me very self conscious). I had a few boyfriends here and there, but most of them were verbally abusive or manipulative...strangely enough, they never used my weight against me. As I got out of high school, I gained more weight, mostly because I moved out of my parent's house and started living with my grandmother who always wanted me to eat. Unfortunately, I didn't practice much portion control and since my parents had so severely restricted me from eating candy or sweets, I ended up eating a lot of stuff that was not so good for me and then added that up with rigorous exercise (mostly biking) and starving myself. On top of that, I was finally pressured into getting a car, and I'm sure that contributed to a lot of my weight gain as well. I was on the pill for awhile, and kept gaining weight slowly but steadily. When at my peak exercise and fitness in high school, I was around 150 pounds of well defined muscle and a little flab (mostly boob); a stocky girl. Then I got pneumonia and couldn't move around for a few months. I gained about 10 pounds and thought that I was a blimp. My mother hated me for gaining weight, especially since she used to be so proud of me for being 150 ("you only have to lose 10 or 20 more pounds" she said). After gaining that weight, she punished me by not going shopping with me. She would also encourage me to starve myself. She put me on this "calorie restrictive diet" where I had to count calories and record them in a diary. Of course, she told me to eat healthy, but I didn't know anything about nutrition, so I just looked at the calories on packages. I ended up eating a candy bar or two and then skipping meals for the rest of the day because I wanted to "save calories". When I turned 18, I was on birth control pills, I was around 160 and steadily climbed until I was over 200 pounds. It got worse when I moved away to go to four year college after the junior college. I was expected by my parents to pay for all living expenses, and I could barely make rent, so I'd starve and starve, eating canned vegetables that were left over from welfare recipients, and hotdogs. Then I met a guy in college who wanted to date me, but I ended up using him as my food contact. He'd let me into the all you can eat dining hall and I was so hungry from not eating much at all for weeks and weeks that I'd gorge myself like I wasn't going to eat for the rest of my life. I went to the doctor once around that time and my triglycerides were over 500. He tried putting me on medication, but it made me sick, so I stopped. I encountered a bunch of lectures from him and the nurses about my lifestyle. However,I didn't have the money or the ability to afford to do the drastic exercise and diet changes that he was proposing and felt that my only option was to just stop going to the doctor to avoid being lectured about stuff I couldn't do anything about. During this time of my life when I was around 200 pounds, I was the most desired that I'd ever been by the guys around me. I had 2 boyfriends at the same time (both of which were ok with it) and two or three other guys who wanted to date me. It seemed beyond my comprehension that they could find me sexy, but I defined myself sexually as a "perverted person who had sexual skills". So, really, instead of being afraid that guys wouldn't like my body, I just assumed they liked me because I was so willing to try new stuff and was very dominant. A lot of the time I would try to imagine a better body superimposed over my own while I was being sexual. It helped me to forget how I actually looked and act "sexy" in a way that didn't make me feel foolish.
All this time, though, I would go home to visit my family from time to time and my mom would give me periodic "serious talks" about how fat I was getting. She tried to get me to join Weight Watchers, get weight loss hypnotism, anything so she wouldn't have to have a fat daughter. Not long after this, she developed a "mysterious" allergy to all dairy and lost a massive amount of weight. To this day, I'm fairly sure she's simply lying about it, and it's a throwback to her bout with bullemia and anorexia. My father, on the other hand, would slip money to me when I was leaving in my car. He must have known how hard it was to be a starving student. He never treated me badly because of my weight. I think that's one reason I moved over 2 hours away to go to college; I wouldn't have to talk to or interact with my mom, who always played the fat card with me and always made me feel bad for being myself. She would buy things in sizes too small for me and then say "I know this might be too big for you, but...."
This continued until around this year (meanwhile I got married and my mom sort of cooled off with the "no one will ever love a fat person like you" lectures). I recently got health insurance with a new job and the doctor said my blood pressure was borderline. She took me off hormonal birth control and my blood pressure went to normal. Other blood work showed that I had higher cholesterol, so I worked on that for awhile and the LDL went down to normal too. I started biking everywhere instead of driving once again, and I started controlling my portions a lot more and making sure my foods were as minimally processed as possible. I still enjoy treats from time to time, but I try to limit them because I want to see if my body is supposed to be this weight or if it's due to what I'm putting in it. The doctors are currently confirming a diagnosis of PCOS. I have very high testosterone even though I'm a woman, and my periods are very irregular again, like before I was on the Pill. I'm still around 232, but I've lost about 20 pounds after getting off the Pill without really trying to. I refuse to do a food diary ever again, even though the doctor tells me to, because it makes me crazy and then I start binging or using calories to eat unhealthy things, so I work on eating hearty vegetable soups, small servings of meat, and control my portions, and for now, that's good enough.
As soon as I told my family about the PCOS diagnosis, they started accepting me more. They felt that since there is a medical reason for my gross fatness, that it's somehow more acceptable because it's "not my fault". I had to fight tooth and nail to finally get the doctors to test me for it and stop giving me the "you're just a lazy fat person" lecture, and I've mostly had to do the research myself (educating myself on endocrine disorders like thyroid problems, cushings, etc) to figure out that due to my symptoms, PCOS fits the definition the best (but I did have them do bloodwork to rule out hypoactive thyroid or cushings). I know that there's still a long way to go as a person, and that I'm still not happy with myself, but I am hoping to work to get my condition under control, and once I get to that place, I don't think I'll care as much about my body size as I will care about what I can do with my body. At the size I am at, I can do hard riding up hills and long distances for hours. I can lift a lot of weights. I eat good and healthy foods that I prepare myself and with my husband. We enjoy a good life together, and we are very happy. I would like to have children of my own, but due to the hormonal problems, I am currently unable to conceive (or at least have a low chance of it). I am worried that if I do have a child that he or she might have a genetic predisposition to obesity, but I know that one of the things that I have learned the most from my own childhood is that the most important clues about how much worth you attribute to body size comes from how someone treats themselves and how they model behaviors. I think that if I can show them that I am strong and athletic and loved very much by so many people even though I'm fat, that it will help them to feel good about themselves regardless of size. The only big fear I have is about my mom instilling the fear of fat in them. Looking back, I realize that I thought that so many people knew the "answers" about why I was wrong, bad and fat, but I finally realize that in reality, they were the ones with the distorted perceptions, which in turn distorted my perceptions and really caused a lot of doubt and depression in my youth. I don't doubt that I would have killed myself if I didn't start journaling and keep myself active in sports and music. I also attribute the large group of friends that I always seem to have (for some reason, even though internally I don't understand why someone would want to be around a fat person like me) and the large amount of male admirers that I often seem to have (and these guys aren't freakish fat-person fetishists either!) along with my Nonnie (grandmother) and my dad, as well as my sister and brother (both of whom are normal sized but who I helped raised to a great degree while my mom was going through various weird stages in her life). I've always labeled myself as "fat" while pussyfooting around the word. I think that it says a lot about what I think about myself. I'm fat, but I try not to think about it. I try to envision myself thorugh my mind's eye as this other person, this acceptable person, and distance myself from my body to some extent by saying "this body is my vehicle, so I need to take care of it, but beyond that, I shouldn't be vain or overly proud of it."
I guess that's something I've taken away with me from my years of knowing that I am a Fat person and therefore gross. But since I am somehow loved very much, I can live with myself. Because that tells me that if I can be loved, then my weight must not be nearly as important as I think that it is.
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From: Mixed-race mutt
This is my story...
I was twelve when I realized I wasn't white.
It wasn't as if I couldn't see my father's brown skin and ink black hair; I just never really thought about the fact that I had it too. I grew up in a small, rural town; with white friends.
When I watched those princess movies I never had any problem beleiving that when I grew up I would look like Cinderella,
Or Sleeping Beauty
Even Belle would have been okay.
When, in middle school, my own ethnicities hit me like a lead brick, I felt as though I had been cheated out of a prize. That day I felt like I was doomed.
After that revalation I noticed other things too; my coarse,thick hair, my wide feet, my brown eyes. And my fat. MY FAT. It was no longer the cute baby fat that would magically give way to that banging hourglass figure. I was fat; I had a fat ass and now no one would love me.
I woke up every morning and wished I had been born blonde and blue eyed. My best friend was the epitome of beauty, so close and yet so far.
It wasn't fair
It still isn't fair
Fat and brown; I felt like I was being punished. I was smart; I tried hard in school and yet I didn't look like the pretty girls.
I have accepted it now; done research on my father's culture and looked at all the women of color.
I think they're beautiful...
Maybe I am too.
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From: Dovey
This is my story...
My story sort of goes backward from the usual. I'm 62 years old, but not so long ago, I was a kid of 6, 7, 8, 10, 12, 16 and so on. I was a skinny kid, not skeletal, but slim. My grandparents and aunt called me "killeer legs" because my legs were long and skinny. I had growing spurts which all kids do. I was pretty much slim until I was in my mid-fifties for the most part. - Gradually over the years, my weight crept up until now I'm at 172 lbs. at 5'5". I've noticed most everyone on here is very young. When one is still growing, the body needs good nutrition in order to grow beautifully - salads, soups, whole grain breads, eggs, meat, poultry, and that sort of food. . and we also need a bit of dessert once or twice a week lest we get so hungry for a treat that we end up bingeing from the deprivation. If one starves themselves, they end up just killing their metabolism because when we go on a starvation diet, our bodies go into "starvation" mode and actually burn fewer and fewer calories - making any weight lost much easier to regain because of the ruined metabolism. - One of the best people I know of on the subject of "Non-Dieting" is Geneen Roth for people in their twenties, thirties and forties. She has some really good insight even though some of her thinking about social matters I differ with - but about the weight thing, she is pretty spot-on. As far as exercise, we aren't going to keep doing stuff that isn't enjoyable to us - and when we eat food that isn't enjoyable to us, we just tend to eat that and then go and raid the cookie box afterwards. (Geneen tells of one day after years of "dieting" she decided that she was going to quit starving herself to try to please others and began eating chocolate chip cookies in every form - even chocolate chip cookie dough - until she was so tired of it after about two weeks that she just naturally began craving fresh fruits, salads and good solid, sensible food. - I've pretty much been doing that for the past couple of months and have just gradually and naturally lost seven pounds. - We all need to quit agonizing about food and get up and participate, dress neatly and AS IF we are already the size we think we would like to be. We can burn calories taking even occasional short hikes, going shopping and walking around the mall, treating ourselves to a nice bath or shower with natural oils, getting an occasional massage. We don't need to obsess about the scales; just weigh maybe a couple of times a month and don't let a piece of machinery dictate what our mood will be on any given day. If someone says something rude, ignore them because they have forfeited your attention - and remember - JUST GET UP AND LIVE YOUR LIFE, and be natural and one day you're going to have shed a lot of "stuff", pounds included, but you don't have to "show" anybody anything or prove anything to anybody. Respect yourself and be happy!
From experience,
Dovey
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From: LMS
This is my story...
I don't have a story, exactly, it's more of a comment... I stumbled upon this site while researching for a paper I am writing for school. I am absolutely flabbergasted by the things you've all experienced. I want to find every one of you and give you a hug and then find every person that hurt you and punch them in the face. EVERY one of you deserves better than that. NO ONE deserves any of the things I've read that happened to you... I spoke with a friend and she shared with me things that happened to her. I'm not gong to spill them out here, because it's not my story to tell, but I am entirely disgusted with society. More so than when I started writing this stupid paper. I wish each and every one of you the best of luck. The future will hold something better for you. Just remember that you're awesome and they're the jerks.
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From: SamuelH73
This is my story...
I happened across this website and it definitely tugged at my heartstrings. I was a skinny child growing up; my parents were hippies after it was fashionable and raised us with all natural, no sugar/no fat foods. My mother and father did not use the guilt by comparison argument ("X is skinny; why can't you be?") or the belittling statement; with my mother no one, including me, was ever "good enough". It didn't matter what I did; it was "good, but it could be better". This, like the mother who subtly places you on a diet, is an insidious act that worms into your heart and soul; you may not realize what they are doing at first, but you know it is directed at you.
Eventually I came to the "realization" that I was not "good enough", and felt it best to do nothing. I was flawed, so why should I care about what I did or said...or looked? I spent many years looking terrible, eating anything that was placed in front of me without noticing it, all the while my mother fretting and clucking, wondering why I didn't care anymore (my mother is a selfish person, so it would not have dawned on her it was her actions which started it all). As my sisters and I were homeschooled, it wasn't too bad; peer pressure was unknown to us. Once we had to go to school, though...*sighs* I learned how to pick myself up, dust myself off and keep moving, all the while suffering the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" (or nasty kids).
I really didn't start gaining weight until I moved out; freed from my parent's dietary situation I ate sugary, fat filled stuff even more than before. I was not the only one to suffer this, though; as a result of severe depression my mother went from a thin woman to a very overweight one in the span of a few months (this was while I was still a child). My sister suffered a similar fate, even though she was active (as opposed to my mother, who did nothing but lie in bed all day). I guess I started gaining weight because of existing and developing depression (brought on by torment due to my openly professed bisexuality while I was living in Texas) and, ironically, getting married and being in comfortable surroundings (apparently, when you are in comfortable surroundings you can gain weight...I had no idea). Well, the marriage didn't work (because, surprise, I was actually gay, not bisexual) and at the age of 26 I was thrust once again into the dating world. I thought I would give it another go; after all, at this point in time I felt I needed a relationship to be happy (I have since learned that is not so). Well, it didn't quite work out that way....
The gay community is rather harsh where I am. They are highly superficial and not very kind (as well as very deep underground, given the homophobic atmosphere of Texas). My father has told me the heterosexual community is just as one dimensional and superficial (and by reading some of the terrible situations on this site, I believe it), but it is still a problem, as my dating pool is restricted a great deal more. Most gay men want thin, muscular boys, not overweight, solid men (I have a little muscle from my job, but I am certainly no Arnold). I ended up nearly committing suicide when I was 28 (one of many attempts) but at the last moment broke down and called my Dad. He and my stepmom helped me so much and were so supportive during that time. I got on medication and it really helped for a while. Unfortunately, money problems (I have no insurance) forced me to wean myself off of them (an all too common situation), but I am doing better still and my friends check on me from time to time). Ironically, the medication I took was known to enhance abdominal fat storage, so I had to choose: Be skinny and depressed or fat and relatively balanced. Tough choice.
I am gravely, deeply concerned about the number of young children (14 and younger) who are writing to this site. What does this say about our society? What does this say about people? It is a horrific, insidious disease that must be stopped somehow. If any kids are reading this, listen to what these people and these stories have to say:
It's okay. You are not alone.
I am 6'3" and 285 now; technically obese by the BMI rating (which is sort of arbitrary, I think). I don't feel or look like it, though; I have a prominent abdomen and my face is rather round, but that's it. I work in a job that demands quite a bit of walking so I am losing it a little at a time. Hopefully, I will either 1) lose the weight or 2) come to accept the fact of my weight and move on. Ultimately, I read the stories of people who are struggling with this and I understand completely...Finally a group of people who understand what I'm going through! It is a vicious little cycle, isn't it? You want people to love you, but many of them have been conditioned to equate "fat" with "unattractive" (it doesn't help that I have a face that makes a burro look pretty, and I'm being serious here. Under my list of good qualities "looks" is definitely not one of them). You see people disregard, ignore or (even worse) denigrate you, which is depressing and hurtful, which (for some) drives you to eat! I definitely eat when I am depressed or feeling sad; it is only through sheer willpower that I am able to ignore it sometimes. Yes, it is painful and agonizing...we live with it every day. It is relatively easy for me to say "Just pick yourself up and move on" because I've done it all my life; that advice may not work for you. Find the advice that suits you best and go for it.
Just remember we are all suffering from the inconsideration of not only people but society, and take strength from that.
HUGS to everyone who has written or will write to this website.
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Well, it all began when I went to school two weeks ago. It was on Tuesday, when I started feeling like I needed to change. I wasn’t skinny like the rest of the girls at school. They wore there little shorts and tang tops showing their genuine legs, great firm ass and a big pair of tits to go with it. I hated looking at them because I felt like shit and not good enough to be around them. Even though they were my friends I felt insecure around them and out of place. I would go to the bathroom and see the pretty girls staring in the mirror at their ass saying things like “ Do you guys think my ass is too big?” or things like “I... so... need to lose weight, I’m gaining again!”I just looked at them and thought what the hell are they thinking and just walked out. Sometimes I would be the one looking at my self in the mirror, but what I would say is “You’re a fat ass!”or “ when are you going to lose that weight , you look ugly?”Sometimes I would cry to sleep at night looking at myself in the mirror wishing I was someone else and not me. I prayed to god that someday I could just wake up with the perfect body that can put a smile on my face. But each day I woke up like a fat butter ball. I hated the summer time because I’m too embarrassed to wear a pair of shorts since all my fat would hang out. I was always hot and wearing more clothes then normally so the guys wouldn’t laugh behind my back. I wanted someone to just turn to me for once and tell me “ your beautiful, would you like to go on a date?” But who would ask the fat girl out, right? I would go to family parties and they would tell me things like “You letting yourself go!” or “ Mija, your gaining a lot of weight for your age” oh and my ultimate favorite “ You need to stop eating so much and just eat vegetables and fruit” Yeah right like I was going to shove food I don’t like in my mouth, huh? Why did they have to tell me those things like as if I didn’t know already. It’s not as if I was the only person in the family who was fat! But since they knew I could stand it they continued to burst by bubble. I remember I was getting ready for school one morning and my grandmother was there with me. She told me I was fat and all I needed to do was not eat a lot and exercise because if I didn’t I would end up as big as my aunts. She would also tell me that no one would ever want to marry a big girl like me I told her “ No, I like being like this and I don’t care what anyone else may think of me”But in reality I didn’t mean it, I so wanted to lose weight and be skinny, but I wasn’t going to tell her that for what, so she could be right again. I don’t think so! What was I suppose to do? I tried exercising and getting hooked on diets but eventually I quit and give up. I couldn’t hang with any of it. I was a big disappointment and everyone knew it. I wished I could run instead of walking and fit into all pair of jeans that were a size 3 but I was stuck being like this! I was fatter than my mother. She looked like the daughter and I looked like the mom, how embarrassing! People would always tell her how pretty she was and how much we looked like sisters or how young my mom looked next to me. It hurt me but I just thought about what I could look like and turn away. What else was I suppose to say? I needed to get away from all this pain inside me just to get away for just a little at least to ease my mind. To wake up and get ready scared me because I had to look in the mirror looking at a girl who her jeans made her fatter then she was and her shirts looked like they were her little sisters. I started feeling really sick about my self and I started to isolate my self away from the others. My friends would tell me I wasn’t fat but I knew they were being nice to me out of kindness. Others would tell me that I wasn’t fat just chubby, and the really kind ones would tell me that skinny girls looked nasty and that they liked girls who were more like me. I still felt like shit! I mean wouldn’t you if from all your friends you had the biggest body, biggest ass and the smaller breast, come on even you can’t deny it. I wanted to commit suicide because I was just to fat to live anymore I had no one to love me and no one to even notice I was alive. What was I going to do for the next two years of high school talk to my self? Who would of gotten with me? No one I bet! My grades were slipping and I had a lot of family issues at home. So I wrote a suicide a letter to my family and friends just in case I was going to go through with it. It read...
To My Beloved Family and Friends
I never thought I would be the one to write this to you, but here I am writing. I had to leave even though you may not understand why. I wasn’t happy with my self and no one made it easy. I had to hear it all the time that I was fat and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t lose it and I tried everything. I ‘m sorry I couldn’t do it, but it’s hard when you have other things to worry about like dates, grades, how you look, who was talking about you and why you don’t look like everyone else. I was the only one from my friends who was ugly and I knew I didn’t belong. I’m sorry I left this way, but there was no other way. Just don’t forget that this was my decision and nobody’s fault. Please don’t cry over me, because I’m not worth shit! I’m sorry mom and dad but I hope things will get better.
Love always Lonnie
There it was in an envelope sealed and put away just in case. What I was planning to do is tell my parents I’m going to the store to buy some things I needed for school and go th the donkey trail up th street and cut my throat with my fathers shank. I don’t know If I was going to be found, but eventually they will and soon they will forget I ever existed. If I chickened out I was going to stop eating as much and get on the diet again and if that didn’t work I was going to consult a doctor. Well as you can tell I didn’t commit suicide and I didn’t go to the doctor either. What I did was even more sarcastic. I stared cutting and hurting my self really bad! I couldn’t stop my self I was used to the pain by now and I was really sad and depressed. No one knew what I was doing and I liked it that way. I put on a smile each day and pretend that everything was fine as usual. No one suspected a thing! Sometimes I wish they did so they would know how I’m feeling instead of suspecting that everything was just fine or thinking that I was just sick or something. Well a couple of days passed by and it was now Friday. I just did it! I grabbed the shank and took it to the donkey trail and before I left I laid it on the bed for my parents to open it. It had been twenty minutes that had passed and I was sitting on a rock thinking about how I was going to go through it when this guy came up to me out of nowhere and he told me “You’re so beautiful what are you doing here with that knife in your hand?” I was so scared, I didn’t know what to say. He was gorgeous! He was tall 6 1 to be exact, medium skin color, brown eyes, long eye lashes, a fade and was wearing a baby blue turtle neck. I couldn’t believe he was talking to me out of all people. I told him the truth and said “I ‘m here today because I’m tired of looking like this and I wanted to kill my self” He was in shock he stared in to my eyes and said “Why wold you want to hurt your self when you look so pretty? I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.” “Your crazy, Why would you tell me such lies and come try to stop me” I told him. “ I saw you from all the way over there and I needed to see you, you looked like an angel” “I don’t know what to say” I said. “ You don’t have to say anything.” He grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes and leaned over and kissed me. Wow! Can you imagine this guy out of no where stopped me from killing my self and now making me feel so special and happy! This guy saved my life! I went home after we exchanged numbers and I burned the letter on my bed and went to bed thanking god for sending Angel to me!